THE REFERENDUM 



573 



DRUMMING AT NIGHT 



Editor Recreation : 



I lived for over thirty years, winter and 

 summer, right amongst ruffed grouse, and 

 know them "from the egg to the pot," and 

 can vouch that they do, under certain atmos- 

 pheric conditions, drum the night long, de- 

 sisting at the break of day when they leave 

 the log or rock to feed. 



The condition most favorable for their pro- 

 longed night drumming is following a heavy 

 rain — either a steady downpour or a heavy 

 thunder-shower. Such is generally followed 

 by a calm, still night. The air is surcharged 

 with moisture ascending from the earth and 

 vegetation, and on a night like this at the end 

 of April or first week of May one can hear 

 the partridge drumming for miles around. 



I have often lain wakeful, after a prolonged 

 stay in one camp, and kept tally on the dif- 

 ferent birds, mentally calling the one nearest 

 the camp "Cheek," the next one at the foot- 

 hill "Turkey" and the furthest off on top of 

 the mountain "Morgan," and they would 

 drum in regular succession as dogs in a vil- 

 lage answer one another when baying at 

 night. 



I had the rare opportunity, once, of seeing 

 a partridge drum at midnight at a distance 

 of less than two feet, and I venture to think 

 that a description to the reader of how this 

 close proximity came to pass would be inter- 

 esting. I will, therefore, relate how I was so 

 situated. 



I was traveling with two Indians in a bark 

 canoe on the big water-feeders of the St. 

 Maurice river. We came out to a large lake, 

 in the evening, which was noted for its de- 

 lay to travelers by frequent high winds dur- 

 ing the daytime. My guide proposed we 

 should have supper and then paddle over the 

 largest crossing, which was right before us, 

 and there pass the balance of the night. 



The stretch is called eight miles from the 

 discharge to the point we made for, and as 

 the night had settled down perfectly calm we 

 did it leisurely in three hours. 



As the men always carried my tent-poles 

 and pegs in the bottom of the canoe, they sim- 

 ply had to pitch the tent, and as the night 

 was a perfect one they slept in the bottom of 

 the canoe, which was pulled up in the grass, 

 in preference to planting their own camp. 



The point upon which we found ourselves 

 ran out considerably into the lake and the 

 extreme end upon which we had landed had 

 been used for years as an old camping ground 

 and had clumps of alders with small glades 

 of grass between them. 



The men were tired from their extra long 

 day and were soon asleep. On the contrary, 

 I felt no inclination for immediate sleep, so 

 spread out my waterproof and blankets, par- 

 tially undressed, lit my candle and began to 

 read. 



The large lake of over four hundred miles 



in circumference was so still that not even a 

 ripple laved its shore. 



All at once, without even "the preliminary 

 cough of etiquette," a draught of wind almost 

 extinguished my candle, followed by a sec- 

 ond and third, which left me in darkness, and 

 then I knew what was happening. 



A partridge was drumming not two feet 

 from the curtain of my tent, and I lay there 

 perfectly still and listened. At the end of his 

 second drum, for which I had been waiting, 

 I could locate the bird within, I was sure, a 

 fraction of an inch, and I considered the prob- 

 abilities of my catching him by sneaking out 

 my arm under the curtain, but on secondary 

 consideration I concluded it would be more 

 profitable to me to study every sound of the 

 drumming process while I had the opportu- 

 nity. 



Man is never satisfied and the writer is no 

 exception, although they do say all rules have 

 their exception ; this I doubt, for it is man's 

 nature (and we can't go against that old 

 party) to always strive for something just a 

 little in advance, something that requires 

 reaching for, and there I was, by listening to 

 the repeated drumming I had the whole proc- 

 ess from the gritting of the stiff wing feathers 

 when extended preparatory to the first down- 

 ward motion right down to the final tremors 

 where things are going at several hundred 

 revolutions to the minute. 



But I wanted to see ! 



Amongst my things in the grip I carried a 

 small hand-mirror for shaving, and I con- 

 ceived the idea of setting this back of the 

 candle to act as a searchlight, at an angle 

 where the wind^waves would not affect it. 



This was no sooner thought of than carried 

 out. My next move was to slit a small open- 

 ing with my penknife just opposite and on a 

 level with the partridge. Through this cut 

 I could watch its every movement. The glare 

 of the light did not seem to bother it and the 

 strong reflection from the glass brought out 

 every feather clearly. 



Every bushman is familiar with the meas- 

 ured pauses between the three first beats and 

 then the rapid ecstacies of the last part of the 

 act. Well, all this I witnessed several times 

 over, under these unusual advantages. 



Finally, I blew out my candle and turned 

 in for the remaining hour or two before day- 

 light, but at regular intervals until we 

 broke camp at daybreak and drove him away 

 that partridge kept up his drumming. 



To brace the tent pickets the men, in the 

 darkness, had placed them at the back of the 

 drumming log, and the bird had actually 

 passed the night between two of the guy 

 strings. 



I have killed hundreds, possibly thousands, 

 of drumming partridges in my life, but have 

 never seen one tame enough to remain to 

 have sticks thrown at him. In this I must 

 disagree with Mr. Kegar. On the contrary, 



