432 RUFFED GROUSE. 
other sheltered and solitary situation, well surrounded with withered 
leaves. Unlike that of the Quail, it is open above, and is usually 
composed of dry leaves and grass. The eggs are from nine to fifteen 
in number, of a brownish white, without any spots, and nearly as large 
as those of a Pullet. The young leave the nest as soon as hatched, 
and are directed by the cluck of the mother, very much in the man- 
ner of the Common Hen. On being surprised, she exhibits all the dis- 
tress and affectionate manceuvres of the Quail, and of most other birds, 
to lead you away from the spot. 1 once started a hen Pheasant with 
a single young one, seemingly only a few days old: there might have 
been more, but I observed only this one. The mother fluttered before 
me for a moment ; but, suddenly darting towards the young one, seized 
att in her bill, and flew off along the surface through the woods, with 
“% great steadiness and rapidity, till she was beyond my sight, leaving’ 
4 me in great surprise at the mcident. J made a very close and active 
search around the spot for the rest, but without success. Here was a 
striking instance of something more than what is termed blind in- 
stinct, in this remarkable deviation from her usual mancuvres when 
she has a numerous brood. It would have been impossible for me to 
have injured this affectionate mother, who had exhibited such an ex- 
ample of presence of mind, reason, and sound judgment, as must 
have convinced the. most bigoted advocates of mere instinct. To car- 
ry off a whole brood in this manner at once would have been impos- 
sible, and to attempt to save one atthe expense of the rest would be 
unnatural. She therefore usually takes the only possible mode of 
saving them in that case, by decoying the person in pursuit of herself, 
by such a natural imitation of lameness as to impose on most people. 
But here, in the case of a single solitary young one, she instantly al- 
tered her plan, and adopted the most simple and efiectual means for 
its preservation. 
The Pheasant generally springs within a few yards, with a loud, 
whirring noise,* and flies with great vigor through the woods, beyond 
* Mr. Audubon has the following observations on the flight and whirring noise pro- 
duced during it: —“ When this bird rises from the ground at a time when pursued 
by an enemy, or tracked by a dog, it produces a loud, whirring sound, resemblin 
that of the whole tribe, excepting the Black Cock of Europe, which has less of it 
than any other species. This whirring sound is never heard when the Grouse rises 
of its own accord, for the purpose of removing from one place to another ; nor, in 
similar circumstances, is it commonly produced by our Little Partridge. In fact, I 
do not believe that it is emitted by any species of Grouse, unless when surprised and 
forced to rise. Ihave often been lying on the ground in the woods or the fields for 
hours at a time, for the express purpose of observing the movements and habits of 
different birds, and have frequently seen a Partridge or a Grouse rise on wing from 
within a few yards of the spot in which I lay, unobserved by them, as gently and 
softly as any other bird, and without producing any whirring sound. Nor even 
when this Grouse ascends to the top of a tree, does it make any greater noise than 
other birds of the same size would do.” 
The structure.of the wings among all the Tetraonidw and Phasianide is such as 
to preclude the possibility of an entirely noiseless flight, when the members are 
actively used; but Ihave no doubt that it can be, and is sometimes, increased. 
When any kind of game is suddenly sprung, or alarmed, the wings are made use 
of with more violence than when the flight is fairly commenced, or a rise to the 
branch of a tree is only contemplated. Ihave heard it produced by all our British 
game to a certain extent, when flying over me, perfectly unalarmed. The noise is 
certainly produced by the rapid actios of the wings, and I believe the birds cannot 
