THE GUIDE TO NATURE 
stone’s throw of the house. When he 
came in the dog kept sniffing eagerly 
at his coat pocket and he looked un- 
easy. The rabbit never returned and I 
have my suspicions. To some men 
their stomach takes the place of a heart. 
Another big rabbit came close around 
the house frequenting a tree of Fall 
Rambo apples. Early one morning I 
"was aroused by the shrieks of a rabbit 
in pain, and jumping out of bed I saw 
a huge hawk just sailing out of sight. 
A few scraps of torn fur were all that 
was left to mark the tragedy and this 
within pistol shot of the house. The 
offer of a quarter brought me the 
hawk’s body, however, which as a fit- 
ting revenge I boiled for the cat. 
All last winter I kept two apples in 
a sheltered spot and a rabbit that lived 
under my house came out each night 
and ate them. After nightfall as we sat 
reading we would hear it romping 
about under the floor and next morning 
the garden bore witness in the snow to 
the rabbit’s moonlight capers. Some- 
times we could sit at the window and 
watch it frolic. When the snow dis- 
appeared it left for the uplands. 
Though I have lived on a farm ever 
since my birth, fifty years ago, and like 
rabbit meat, I have never yet killed a 
bunny. When I caught them in the 
snow by hand and they begged for life 
I turned them loose. To shoot one 
seemed unbearably cruel. Application 
of the Golden Rule would prevent 
much cruelty and would and should 
prevent all mob law. 
The Challenge of the Ruffed Grouse. 
BY W. H. H. BARKER, M. D„ HARVEY, IOWA. 
“Boom, boom, bm-r-r-r-r” come the 
echoes from a forest copse, and the alert 
ear catches the sound of the ruffed 
grouse’s challenge to his fellows, a 
challenge that may mean love or war. 
He is denied a voice to proclaim his 
wishes and needs must substitute his 
wings. He is a wary and alert member 
of the feathered folk and is ever solitary 
when he chooses thus to make his lo- 
cality known, and wary and alert as 
well must be the human eye that 
catches a glimpse of the performance. 
Few indeed may boast that they have 
been able to catch sight of the bird in 
this unique act. So few have ever wit- 
nessed it that writers on natural history 
are not agreed as to how it is accom- 
plished, one at least asserting that it 
is the result of the rapid beating of the 
wings against the breast. This could 
not produce the widely vibrating sound 
so often heard and so easily recognized. 
Feathers beating against feathers, no 
matter how vigorously, could not pro- 
duce that loud “boom.” It requires a 
sounding board and this sounding 
board is found in the trunk of a fallen 
tree, usually of hard wood and free 
from bark or moss. On this the male 
bird perches, his body parallel with 
the length of the tree. Then drooping 
his wings below the level of his feet, 
he rapidly beats his “tattoo” on the 
sides of this, his sounding board. Be- 
tween the oft repeated challenges his 
eyes and ears are alert to the slightest 
sound and at the least disturbance he 
disappears and is away to his hiding 
place in the depths of the woods. 
To gather the data of this record took 
months of effort and study. The man- 
ner of its accomplishment may not be 
without interest. Having noted the 
habitual resort of one of these birds 
and having located his sounding board 
as well, careful and extensive prepara- 
tions had to be made to catch him un- 
awares in the act of issuing his chal- 
lenge. If once disturbed and driven 
from one place he will not return to it 
till after a lengthy interval. In these 
intervals nearly a full year elapsed be- 
fore the bird was “trained” sufficiently 
to return, after I had made numerous 
attempts to witness his performance 
As a dense copse surrounded the place 
a “hide” became necessary. This was 
made in the form of a round brush pile 
with a peephole of small dimensions 
through its center. It was a long time 
after this “hide” was made ere the wary 
bird returned. At last the well-known 
sound was heard, and I approached the 
“hide” on hands and knees, crawling 
only as all sounds were deadened by 
the beating of wings. Through the tele- 
scope hole in the heap of brush I ob- 
tained. at a distance of about thirty 
feet, a splendid view of the bird in full 
action. Again and again was the view 
repeated, each time the eye reaching 
the point of vision just as the performer 
struck his first note. 
After a score or more of careful ex- 
aminations the bird had yielded up the 
secret of his dramatic performance, the 
prying eye was satisfied and the scene 
