The Audubon Reader (12 page)

On the ground the Pinnated Grouse exhibits none of the elegance of manner observed in the Ruffed Grouse, but walks more like the Common Hen, although in a more erect attitude. If surprised it rises at once with a moderate whirring sound of the wings; but if it happens to see you at a distance and the place is clear, it instantly runs off with considerable speed and stops at the
first tuft of high grass or bunch of briar, when it squats and remains until put up. In newly ploughed grounds I have seen them run with all their might, their wings partially expanded, until suddenly meeting with a large clod, they would stop, squat and disappear in a moment. During the noontide hours several may often be seen dusting themselves near each other, either on the ploughed fields or the dry sandy roads, and rearranging their feathers in a moment in the same manner as the Wild Turkey. Like the Common Fowls, they watch each other’s motions, and if one has discovered a grasshopper and is about to chase it, all the rest within sight of it either fly or run up to the place. When the mother of a brood is found with her young ones she instantly ruffles up her feathers and often looks as if she would fly at you; but this she never ventures to do, although she tries every art to decoy you from the place. On large branches of trees these birds walk with great ease, but on small ones they require the aid of their wings to enable them to walk steadily. They usually, if not always, roost singly within a few feet of each other and on such little eminences as the ground affords. I have found them invariably fronting the wind, or the quarter from which it was to blow. It is only during the early age of the young birds that they sit on the ground in a circle.

The
flight of the
Prairie Hen is strong, regular, tolerably swift, and at times protracted to the distance of several miles. The whirring of its wings is less conspicuous than that of the Ruffed Grouse or “Pheasant” (
Tetrao umbellus
), and its flight is less rapid. It moves through the air with frequent beats, after which it sails with the wings bent downwards, balancing itself for a hundred yards or more as if to watch the movements of its pursuer, for at this time they can easily be observed to look behind them as they proceed. They never rise when disturbed without uttering four or five distinct clucks, although at other times they fly off in silence. They are easily shot down by a calm sportsman but are very apt to deceive a young hand. In the western country they rarely stand before the
pointer, and I think the
setter is a more profitable dog there. In the Eastern states, however, pointers, as I am informed, are principally employed. These birds rarely wait the approach of the sportsman, but often rise when he is at such a distance as to render it necessary for him to be very prompt in firing. Unlike
other species, they seldom pass over you even when you surprise them, and if the country is wooded, they frequently alight on the highest branches of the tallest trees, where they are usually more accessible. If shot almost dead, they fall and turn round on the ground with great violence until life is extinct; but when less inju
red, they run with great celerity to some secluded place, where they remain so quiet and silent as to render it difficult to find them without a good dog. Their flesh is dark, and resembles that of the
Red Grouse of Scotland or the
Spotted Grouse of North America.

The curious notes emitted in the love season are peculiar to the male. When the receptacles of air, which in form, color and size resemble a small orange, are perfectly inflated, the bird lowers its head to the ground, opens its bill and sends forth, as it were, the air contained in these bladders in distinctly separated notes, rolling one after another from loud to low and producing a sound like that of a large muffled drum. This done, the bird immediately erects itself, refills its receptacles by inhalation and again proceeds with its tootings. I frequently observed in those
Prairie Hens which I had tamed at Henderson that after producing the noise the bags lost their rotundity, and assumed the appearance of a burst bladder, but that in a few seconds they were again inflated. Having caught one of the birds, I passed the point of a pin through each of its air cells, the consequence of which was that it was unable to toot anymore. With another bird I performed the same operation on one only of the cells, and next morning it tooted with the sound one, although not so loudly as before, but could not inflate the one which had been punctured. The sound, in my opinion, cannot be heard at a much greater distance than a mile. All my endeavors to decoy this species, by imitating its curious sounds, were unsuccessful, although the Ruffed Grouse is easily deceived in this manner. As soon as the strutting and fighting are over, the collapsed bladders are concealed by the feathers of the ruff, and during autumn and winter are much reduced in size. These birds, indeed, seldom if ever meet in groups on the scratching grounds after incubation has taken place; at all events, I have never seen them fight after that period for, like the Wild Turkeys, after spending a few weeks apart to recover their strength, they gradually unite, and as soon as the young are grown up, individuals of both sexes mix with the
latter and continue in company till spring. The young males exhibit the bladders and elongated feathers of the neck before the first winter, and by the next spring have attained maturity, although, as in many other species, they increase in size and beauty for several years.

As I have never shot these birds in the Eastern states, and therefore cannot speak from experience of the sport which they afford, I here introduce a very interesting letter from a well-known sportsman, my friend
David Eckleiy, Esq., residing at Boston, who is in the habit of
shooting them annually.

“Dear Sir, I have the pleasure of sending you a brace of Grouse from
Martha’s Vineyard, one of the
Elizabeth Islands, which for many years past I have been accustomed to visit annually for the purpose of enjoying the sport of shooting these fine birds. Nashawenna [i.e.,
Nashawena] is the only other island of the group on which they are found. This, however, is a sort of preserve, as the island being small and the birds few, strangers are not permitted to shoot without the consent of the owners of the soil. It would be difficult to assign a reason why they are found upon the islands above named and not upon others, particularly Nashann [i.e., Naushon], which, being large, well wooded and abounding in feed, seems quite as favorable to the peculiar habits of the birds.

“Fifteen or twenty years ago, I know from my own experience, it was a common thing to see as many birds in a day as we now see in a week; but whilst they have grown scarcer, our knowledge of the ground has become more extended, so that the result of a few weeks’ residence of a party of three, with which I usually take the field, is ten brace of birds. Packs of twenty to fifty are now no longer seen, and the numbers have so diminished in consequence of a more general knowledge of their value, the price in Boston market being five dollars per brace, that we rarely see of late more than ten or twelve collected together. It is often observed, however, that there is very little encouragement to be derived from the circumstance of falling in with a large number, and that the greater the pack, the more likely they are to elude the vigilance of the sportsman; though it must be acknowledged that it is a most exhilarating yet tantalizing sight to start a large pack out of gunshot. To watch them as their wings glisten in the sun, alternately sailing,
fluttering and scooming [i.e., skimming] over the undulating ground, apparently just about alighting, but exerting their strength and fluttering on once more, some old stager of the pack leading them beyond an intervening swell, out of harm’s way, beyond which all is conjecture as to the extent or the direction of their flight. In such a case it is best to follow on as quick and as straight as possible keeping the eye fixed upon the tree or bush which served to mark them, and after having proceeded a reasonable distance in the direction which they have flown, if a ‘clear’ or ‘cutting place’ should lie in the course, the birds may be confidently expected to have alighted there. They never in fact settle down where the woods are thick or the bushes close and tangled, but invariably in some open space and often in the roads; neither do they start from thick foliage or briary places, but seek at once to disengage themselves from all embarrassment to their flight by attaining the nearest open space, thus offering to the sportsman the fairest mark of all game birds. It frequently happens that not one is killed on the first flight of a pack, as they are often very unexpectedly started, but on approaching them a second time with greater caution, success is more likely to follow, particularly if they have become scattered.

“Towards the middle of November they have attained their average weight of nearly two pounds each, and nothing can be fuller, richer or more game-like than their plumage. At this time of year, however, in sportsman’s phrase, they will seldom ‘lie to the dog,’ but are easily started by every sound they hear. Even loud talking alarms them; for which reason a high wind, which drowns the approach of danger, is the most desirable weather. A calm, drizzly day is also favorable; for the birds being less likely to be disturbed by the glare of objects, venture into the old rye fields, the low edges of the wood, and the bushy pastures to feed.

“It is seldom that we start a bird a second time in the exact spot where he has been seen to hover down, for no sooner do they alight than they run, and frequently into thick cover, from which they often attempt in vain to disentangle themselves. A dog is then necessary to scent the bird, which alternately runs and squats until, being hard pressed, it rises, and frequently with a sound which resembles the syllables
coo, coo, coo
, uttered with rapidity. One good dog is better than two, and though sufficient, is absolutely
necessary, for besides the enjoyment of observing his action generally, his challenging cheers and his pointing prepare you. But more than all, a dog is required in recovering those which are winged or not fatally wounded which, but for his tracking them, would be entirely lost.

“The barberry, which abounds in many parts of
Martha’s Vineyard, is the principal food of the Grouse, particularly such as grow on low bushes near the ground and easily reached by the birds. They also feed on the boxberry or partridgeberry, the highland and lowland cranberry, rosebuds, pine and alder buds, acorns, &c. In summer, when young, they feed on the more succulent berries.

“We frequently meet with the remains of such as have been destroyed in various ways, but more particularly by the domestic cat, which prowls the woods in a wild state, and which often receives a very unwelcome salute for the mischief it does. Owls, hawks and skunks also do their part towards the destruction of these valuable but defenseless birds. In these ways they are thinned off much more effectually than by the sportsman’s gun. They frequent no particular soil, and like all other hunting, wherever the feed is, there is the likeliest place for the game. In addition to this rule as a guide, we look for their fresh tracks among the sandy barberry hillocks and along the numerous paths which intersect that remarkable part of the Vineyard called Tisbury Plain. Into this, should the birds fly from the edges as they sometimes do, it is almost impossible to start them a second time, as there are no trees or large objects to mark their flight. Being mostly covered with scrub oaks of a uniform height, with occasional mossy hollows, it affords them a place of refuge, into which they fly for protection, but from which they soon emerge, when the danger is past, to their more favorite haunts.

“I have only seen them in the month of November, but I am told that in the spring of the year previous to the season of incubation they congregate in large companies in particular places, where they hold a grand tournament, fighting with great desperation and doing one another all the mischief possible. In these chosen spots it is said the cunning natives were accustomed to strew ashes and rush upon them with sticks when blinded by the dust which they had raised. In later times the custom of baiting them has proved
more destructive to the species. In this way, very great but very unsportsmanlike shots have often been made. Another practice has been that of stealing upon them unawares, guided by that peculiar sound for which they are remarkable in the spring of the year, called ‘tooting.’ By these and other means to which I have adverted, the birds were diminishing in numbers from year to year; but it is to be hoped that they will revive again, as they are now protected by an act of the State of Massachusetts passed in 1831 which limits the time of shooting them to the months of November and December, and imposes a penalty of ten dollars each bird for all that are killed, except in those two months. Boston, Massachusetts, December 6, 1832.”

In the western country, at the approach of winter, these birds frequent the tops of the sumac bushes to feed on their seeds, often in such numbers that I have seen them bent by their weight; and I have counted more than fifty on a single apple tree, the buds of which they entirely destroyed in a few hours. They also alight on high forest trees on the margins of large rivers such as the Mississippi, to eat grapes and the berries and leaves of the parasitical mistletoe. During several weeks which I spent on the banks of the Mississippi above the mouth of the Ohio I often observed flocks of them flying to and fro across the broad stream, alighting at once on the highest trees with as much ease as any other bird. They were then so abundant that the
Indians, with whom I was in company, killed them with arrows whenever they chanced to alight on the ground or low bushes.

During the sowing season, their visits to the wheat and corn fields are productive of considerable damage. They are fond of grasshoppers and pursue these insects as chickens are wont to do, sometimes to a distance of thirty or forty yards. They drink water like the common fowl when at liberty and, like all other species of this family, are fond of dusting themselves in the paths or among the earth of the fields.

I have often observed them carry their tail in the manner of the
Common Hen. During the first years of my residence at Henderson, in severe winters, the number of Grouse of this species was greatly augmented by large flocks of them that evidently came from Indiana, Illinois and even from the western side of the Mississippi.
They retired at the approach of spring, no doubt to escape from the persecution of man.