Forest and Stream 
Vol. LXXXII. March 14, 1914 
No. 11 
Hunting the Ruffed 
Wherein is Given Evidence That They are Wise in 
By R. H. McNair, M. D. 
Grouse 
the Ways of the 
B OB WHITE” long has borne the distinc¬ 
tion of being the game bird of America, 
by virtue of his innate shrewdness—his 
native ability to put the best trained dog up to all 
he can do when in cover most favorable to “Bob” 
for getting in his tricks to elude the pursuer, 
and at the same time score quite a few counts on 
the crack shots. I have known many a man 
who could score on a long string at the clay 
pigeon trap, and yet who scored close akin to the 
novice on an all-day quail hunt in the thick 
covers of North Carolina. Having enjoyed an 
acquaintance of many years with the foxy little 
chap, beginning with an early hunting experience 
on a Mississippi plantation, I pursued him in 
Massachusetts—for only a short hunting period, 
however—until I found out that he had too 
many odds against him in weathering the severe 
New England winters. 
On many occasions it was a pleasure to find 
the haunts of a covey not too remote from my 
residence, and with the setter I would find them 
when the “first snow flew”—to borrow a New 
England farmer’s phrase—build a “lean-to” with 
fence rails and tuff, and feed the covey through¬ 
out the hard winter. It was almost as much 
sport of a snowy morning to pull on the high 
rubber boots and carry a paper bag of cracked 
corn, buckwheat and oats over to “Bog White’s” 
shack, as I did three or four times a week. But 
the degree of sport depended, of course, upon 
the severity of the snow-storm. Many times I 
had much pleasure in seeing the covey of eigh¬ 
teen or twenty plump birds making their way 
from the shed, to which they came as regularly 
as a flock of chickens in a poultry yard. 
If quail are well fed they can weather the 
severest winter, and I firmly believe that the men 
who are interested in the preservation of quail 
in New England, rather than their destruction, 
awoke rather late to the great necessity of feed¬ 
ing them. My old friend with whom I hunted 
often, and who initiated me into the hunting of 
Massachusetts, also was a firm and practical 
advocate of feeding through the winter. I have 
even known his hospitality to extend to feeding 
an old red fox with suckling ett^s. But he had 
a fine foxhound, and made the youngsters gp 
some when they grew to maturity. I mention this 
also from actual experience, for many a fox- 
chase have I enjoyed with the gentleman who 
always kept a good dog and enjoyed having his 
friends hunt with him. 
To return for a few moments to “Bob White.” 
You may imagine the warmth of indignation one 
would feel, having fed and protected a nice 
covey of quail through the winter, and heard 
their merry “Bob White” calls through the nest¬ 
ing season, to catch a couple of game hogs from 
a nearby city in the field—which had been con¬ 
spicuously posted—trying to bag the entire covey. 
After a few words of warning, with rather im¬ 
pertinent retorts, I declared that if I heard an¬ 
other gun shot in the cover they were hunting 
I would throw a few bullets their way from a 
30-30 Winchester rifle. The warning was given 
in a tone which they evidently thought was 
meant, for they hiked. 
During my third season at quail shooting I 
winged a fine cock bird one morning, and the dog 
caught him without further injury. When I took 
him from the dog’s mouth the poor little fellow 
squeeled like a frightened chicken. I immedi¬ 
ately became chicken-hearted and examined the 
bfrif carefully to ascertain the extent of injury, 
hoping to set him at liberty. To my disappoint¬ 
ment I found the wing was so badly shattered 
that I felt sure he could not live through the 
winter. F.*i. v.^hat incident my enthusiasm for 
hunting quad’ England received an en¬ 
during frost. 
As my hunting friend above mentioned ex¬ 
pressed it, I had “too much hunting blood in my 
neck” to abandon the sport with gun and dog, 
so I turned my attention to the ruffed grouse, 
which ten years ago were quite abundant in 
western Massachusetts, and afforded good hunt¬ 
ing to the man who was willing and able to stand 
the hikes in rough country. For they were found 
mostly at that period near the foot-hills and 
in the ranges east and west of the Connecticut 
river. They were hard to bag only because of 
their extreme wildness, which induced the habit 
generally of wild flushes before the dog came to 
point; also because of the thick cover in which 
they were often found. But their ability to elude 
hunter and dog could not for a moment be com¬ 
pared with that of the quail. 
The grouse is endowed with an extremely 
wild instinct to get away from any unusual 
noise; hence he will fly quickly, and apparently 
with a strange disregard as to where he is go¬ 
ing. I knew of one instance where a full-grown 
cock grouse flew at full speed against a heavy 
plate glass window of a private residence and 
was killed. On an autumn morning, while visit¬ 
ing a village store, the clerk asked me to go into 
the cellar with him to see what kind of a bird 
he had there; he had heard one fluttering around 
Staunch as an Old Cock Stood Bob. 
