My Friend the Partridge 
Memories of New England Shooting 
By S. T. Hammond 
(Continued from page 1016). 
O NE spring morning I was watching a par¬ 
tridge drumming on a log, when the hen 
bird came from the thicket into the open 
spot near the log. After receiving the attention 
of her mate, she strolled back in the direction 
from which she came, while he again mounted 
upon the log and in the course of some ten 
minutes his love note was again filling the air 
with its music. Just as he closed the second 
performance, I saw another female come into 
the opening and walk toward him, when he 
came down from the log and paid his devoirs 
to the newcomer. This was so entirely differ¬ 
ent from what I had always believed that I ex¬ 
perienced quite a turn, and tried to persuade 
myself that the last was the same bird that had 
first appeared upon the scene, but there was no 
getting around the fact that the first comer had 
black bands across her tail, while the second 
one sported those of a bright chestnut color, 
and I was forced to believe that my best bird 
was a Mormon. Lingering doubt that this 
might have been a rare occurrence was com¬ 
pletely dispelled the following spring, when 
more than five miles from this place, I had op¬ 
portunity again to witness the same perform¬ 
ance, when three female birds came to the 
trysting place; and a few days later I again saw 
two come at nearly the same instant. These 
incidents of course dispelled the illusion that the 
partridge is “faithful unto death.” 
I have never found the male partridge any¬ 
where near the vicinity of a young brood, al¬ 
though I have often with my dog beat out a 
wide circle entirely around them, in order to 
test the matter to my satisfaction. 
It is the same when the female begins her 
housekeeping. She has no assistance from her 
“mate.” I do not believe that she ever sees 
him unless perhaps by accident during the time 
devoted to family affairs. 
Her nest is of very simple construction— 
merely a slight depression in the ground that 
she makes by wallowing, using her wings to 
remove the soil, or she finds a little hollow that 
suits her purpose. This with a few leaves for 
lining is all she requires. The nest is made in 
early April. It is usually under a protecting 
bush, or near a fallen log, or beside a rock or 
stump. It is usually found in sprout land or 
near the edge of woods, although I have some¬ 
times found them in heavy timber at some dis¬ 
tance from the edge. She begins to lay when 
her nest is ready, usually about a dozen eggs, 
although I once saw a nest with seventeen. I 
have found them with less than half this number. 
I never succeeded in demonstrating to my sat¬ 
isfaction just how long she sets, owing to the 
fact that I was unable to determine the exact 
time when her duties began. My first attempt 
resulted in the appearance of the brood in less 
than two weeks, and upon other occasions the 
result was very unsatisfactory. I have examined 
quite a number of nests after the birds were 
gone, and have invariably found that every egg 
had hatched. 
When the bird is sitting on her nest, it is 
almost impossible for the human eye to see her. 
I have repeatedly spent several minutes before 
I could locate her, even when I knew to a foot 
just where the nest was situated. She is so 
nearly the color of the leaves that cover the 
ground, and remains so perfectly motionless 
that she escapes observation from any one 
passing by unless they come too near her, when 
she at once takes wing. Even then it is often 
impossible to see the eggs, for the first motion 
of her wings spreads the leaves over them, com¬ 
pletely covering them from sight. I once found 
a nest the last day of May, and the next morn¬ 
ing I again visited it, but nothing remained save 
the empty shells. Upon my return I struck for 
a wood road that led in the direction I wished 
to go, when I came across the brood, but I 
had only a fleeting glance at them, for at the 
warning note of the mother bird every fluffy 
ball disappeared from sight. Then the old 
bird, with wings, legs and back apparently 
broken, floundered past me, and with many 
queer contortions very slowly worked her way 
down the path. Wishing to see the whole of 
the performance, I followed her slowly at first 
but at gradually increasing speed until I was 
walking at my best, but she kept just ahead of 
me until quite a distance from her charge, when 
she suddenly recovered from her grievous 
wounds, and with quickly beating wings, she 
mounted in air and was off like a shot. Grati¬ 
fied at witnessing her well planned ruse, I re¬ 
turned to the vicinity of the brood, greatly 
wondering that those tiny chicks, only a few 
hours old, should understand the import of that 
warning note, and that they should be able to 
so quickly disappear in so open a spot. Seat¬ 
ing myself behind a spreading bush a few yards 
away, I awaited further developments. I was 
not kept long in suspense, for I soon heard the 
plaintive music of the call of the mother, when, 
as by magic, the little forms came apparently 
from out the ground and with eager haste 
scuttled away in the direction of the loving call. 
I sat there a long time musing upon the won¬ 
derful display of intelligence manifested t 
these newly born fledglings, and wondering wl 
it is that we poor human beings must wait f( 
years before we can comprehend such thing 
"and even then I fear that very many of i 
pay scant heed to the danger warning or tl 
loving call. 
The mother bird broods her young just 
a hen broods her chickens. The diet of tl 
little fellows is one of the mysteries that I ha- 
been unable to solve, but it must be of a ve 
nourishing character, for they increase 
stature at a wonderful rate, attaining near 
their full growth in ten or twelve weeks. 
Centuries before the advent of the shotgu 
partridges were caught in snares. This meth 
is in use at the present day. The farmer’s b 
who sets a few for his amusement does not * 
plete the stock to an appreciable extent, but ti 
expert market hunter will very nearly extern 
nate the birds throughout his entire range 
snares. 
I know that it is sinful to set snares, tl 
time was when I thought differently. In 1 
early days, before I knew anything about 
gun" I had considerable experience in this lin 
but as soon as I was big enough to carry 
gun, I became convinced of the wickedness 
snaring and of course at once stopped it. • 
My first snare was set more than sixty yei 
ago, but as my thoughts go back to that brq 
winter’s day, the scene rises before me 
fresh as though it were yesterday. At 
home, Thanksgiving Day was the great day 
all the year. We always trimmed up the hoi' 
with evergreens, had a turkey with all 
fixings, and such pies and cake! not but tha 
have just as good now, for I was lucky enoi 
to find a little girl who can cook just as well: 
mother did. 
When I was nearly eleven years old, Than; 
giving week came, and on Monday fat: 
started for Hartford, leaving us to m;i 
preparation for Thanksgiving, saying that 
would be home early on Wednesday, and woi 
bring the turkey. On Tuesday night th 
came a severe snow-storm that left about a fj 
of snow on the ground, and we had grave U 
that father would not be able to come on ti¬ 
ns forty miles of such traveling would be 
much for the horse to accomplish. 
Mother thought we had better make i 
preparations, as possibly he might come, s 
started for the hemlocks about a half mile a i 
to procure the evergreen for decorating 1 
house. Wallowing through the deep snov: 
soon reached the place, which was a spleii 
grove of stately hemlocks that stood sill 
and in groups, each tree or group formin 
beautiful pyramid from the ground to a he 1 
of fifty to sixty feet. I shall never forget i 
dazzling beauty of that group of cones on 
bright sunny morning, as they stood then 
silent grandeur with the living green of t: 
foliage half obscured with the fleecy snow, t 
their long slender arms gracefully droofl 
under its weight, while in the foreground 
