The Oregon Ruffed Grouse 



AGAIN IT IS that little touch of "Humid Transition" afforded by 

 Del Norte and Humboldt counties (with adjacent areas in Siskiyou and 

 Trinity) which links us up with the great Northland; and, in this case, 

 with the north central portion of the entire continent. Ours is the western- 

 most and most "saturated" race of the four or five stretching from Cape 

 Cod to Cape Flattery and south to Humboldt Bay. Perhaps the most 

 exquisite product of our somber western woods is this "Oregon" Ruffed 

 Grouse with his plumage of warm browns and woodsy buffs, relieved by 

 touches of white, and set off by the glossy black of neck ornaments, or 

 ruffs. Nature has painted her favorite to match the moldering logs 

 of red fir, cross-hatched as they are by the infinite traceries of the under- 

 forest. When he steps forth at the sound of your footstep into some 

 woodland path, alert yet curious, with ruffs half-raised and tail partly 

 opened, you feel as if the very beauty of nature had found concrete ex- 

 pression, and that the vision would fade again if you breathed too heavily. 



If not pressed, the bird will presently hop up on some fallen log, the 

 better to see and be seen; or else trip away, satisfied, into some mossy 

 covert. Or it may take suddenly to wing, with a roar which you feel to 

 be quite needless, especially when exaggerated by a series of grunts which 

 must be partly derisive. 



From the point of view of the sportsman, this bird is not to be com- 

 pared with the Ruffed Grouse of the eastern states. Its cover is too 

 abundant, and it does not take the discipline which has educated the wily 

 "partridge." It seldom allows the dog to come to a correct point, usually 

 flushing into the nearest small tree, where it sits peeping and perking like 

 an overgrown chicken, regarding now the dog and now the hunter. Pot- 

 shooting the birds under these circumstances can hardly be called sport, 

 but their fondness for dense thickets often makes it the only way in which 

 they can be obtained. 



In the latter part of February the mating season commences, and 

 from that time until well into May the rolling drum-call of the cocks 

 may be heard at any hour of the day and sometimes far into the night. 

 Every cock has some particular fallen tree which he has chosen for his 

 private drumming ground, and he very rarely resorts to another situa- 

 tion. A favorite log becomes worn in the course of a season, so that an 

 experienced hunter may locate the trysting place in its owner's absence. 



The motive of this singular performance is, of course, primarily 

 sexual. It is the wooing call, such as every male grouse indulges in one 

 fashion or another; but there seems to be in this, also, a more poetic 

 element. Its exhibition is not confined to springtime, but the desire 

 seizes the bird at intervals throughout the year, and especially in the fall. 

 The grouse drums for the same reason that other birds sing, simply to 

 express his joy of life. 



