( Plate III.) 
THE WOODCOCK. 
Philohf.la minor, (Gmelin) Gray. 
The great overshadowing leaves and realistic background ol 
rank herbage with which the artist has filled his picture, brings out 
with heightened ell eel the beauties of the summer coat ol these 
Woodcocks. No bird is more affectionately regarded by the 
American sportsman, because it is invariably to be trusted to 
afford good sport when once found, disdaining any dishonorable 
tricks even to save its life, although full of cunning; because of 
its delicious taste ; and because of its entertaining ways. Yet it 
is last disappearing - irom our woodlands, 
Our Woodcock is carefully to be distinguished irom the larger 
and different European bird of the same name, which occasionally 
straggles to our shores, and gets shot. Our species is found in 
summer over all the Eastern United States, but does not get 
north of Nova Scotia, and rarely westward of the Missouri, al¬ 
though it seems to be moving slowly west and northwest with 
the advance ot civilization Woodcocks are to be seen with the 
first breaking up of the frost, and are among the earliest birds to 
breed. The nest is a simple affair, — a mere hollow scraped 
among the leaves on the ground at the foot of a stump, or beside 
some other protection, — walled about a little with dead grass, 
etc. The four eggs are of a light day color, spotted with nu¬ 
merous chocolate-brown surface markings, and many other pale, 
stone-gray shel 1-spots. 
“The Woodcock, says Dr. Cones, “is by no means so exclu¬ 
sively an inhabitant of bog and brake as those who are not entirely 
familiar with it may suppose. It frequently visits corn-fields and 
other cultivated tracts in the vicinity of swampy grounds, and 
often betakes itsell to the woods, where it rustles among the dry 
leaves, turning them over to search for food. It is erratic, or 
rather capricious, in its resorts, as well as in its general movements 
north and south. A few linger, unless the season be very severe, 
in the Middle districts all winter, but they are generally off for the 
South with the freezing oi the ground. A cold snap will sud¬ 
denly drive them away altogether from places where, a few hours 
before, they had been found in numbers. The general and regu¬ 
lar movement occurs chiefly in March and October. Some re¬ 
side in the South, but the greater number pass North, to return 
again in the fall. None appear to winter, except casually, beyond 
our Middle districts.’’ 
The Woodcock is a nocturnal bird, not generally venturing 
abroad in the daytime beyond the seclusion ol the swale in whose 
gloom he finds safety; but at night, between sunset and dark, you 
catrh the soft beating of his w ings overhead, and look up only to 
get a glimpse o I his shadowy form as he flits Irom copse to copse. 
It is at this time of the gloaming that, in the Spring, you hear 
his remarkable love-notes, — sounds which are accompanied by 
such behavior as you would hardly look lor in a bird ol the Wood¬ 
cock's form and size. If you cautiously penetrate to his retreat at 
twilight, and listen, the bird will soon reveal himself by a lively 
peep, frequently uttered, from the ground. This is his “good 
evening ” to his mate, and while repeating it he may be seen strut¬ 
ting about with fantastic jerkings of the tail and a frequent bow¬ 
ing; of the bead. Suddenly he springs upward and wi th a wide 
circular sweep, uttering at the same time a rapid w histling note, he 
rises in a spiral course to a great height in the air. At the sum¬ 
mit of his ascent he hovers about with irregular motions, chirping 
in a crazed, ecstatic way a medley of broken notes like imperfect 
warbling. This continues tor ten or fifteen seconds, when it ceases 
and he returns to the ground, uttering a squeaking peep as he 
alights. 
By October ist the game is fat and strong, the care of the 
young has ceased, each bird is independent of its fellows, even 
the accidentally late broods are fully grown, — to shoot them is 
an honest contest between bird and man. 
“And then, ye gods of woodcraft! Sylvans and Fauns! and 
thou, friend of the hunter, Pan ! what sport shall we have in 
brown October, when the sear underbrush is bare of leaves to mar 
the sportsman’s aim; when the cool dewy earth sends up the odor 
of the game in fresh streams to the setter's keen and sagacious 
nose; when the pure air braces the nerves and fans the brow, de¬ 
licious; when the full-grown, white-fronted, pink-legged, Cock 
springs up — not fluttering feebly now, and staggering stupidly 
into the muzzle of the gun, to drop again within twenty yards, 
but on a vigorous and whistling pinion, with sharp-piping alarm- 
note, swift as a rifle-bullet, soaring away through the tree-tops, 
or darting, devious with abrupt zig-zags, among the thick-set sap¬ 
lings.” 
