his tail to a brown and gray banded fan, which he
holds straight up as a Turkey does his when he is strutting and
gobbling. Next he raises his wings and begins to beat the air--slowly at
first, and then faster and faster. 'Boom--boom--boom'--the hollow sound
comes rolling with a noise like beating a bass drum.

"Thus does the Ruffed Grouse drum up his mate, as the Woodpecker hammers
or the Thrush sings. You remember the booming sound made by the wings of
the Nighthawk, when the air whizzed through them? When Bob White and his
Grouse brother fly, their wings make a whirring noise that is equally
startling."

"And does his mate understand that the drumming is meant to call her?"

"Yes, surely; and soon there is a nest of dry leaves somewhere about the
roots of a tree, or under a fallen log. Father Grouse then becomes
selfish and takes himself off with some men friends, leaving mamma alone
to hatch the eggs and feed the babies. But this is not so dreadful as it
seems, because the young ones are fully covered with down like Chickens
when they first leave the egg, and able to follow their mother; besides,
they are the most obedient little things imaginable.

"If she but gives one cluck of alarm, they vanish, under the leaves or
twigs, and do not stir again until they hear her say the danger is
over. And that patient watchful Mother Grouse has as many ways of
leading an enemy away from her nest as any House Mother could devise if
her children were in danger.

"This Grouse is a Ground Gleaner, a Seed Sower, and a Weed Warrior also
in autumn. When snow covers all other food, he nips buds from low
plants.

[Illustration: Ruffed Grouse.]

"Sometimes he burrows in deep snow for shelter from the cold, and then is
liable to be caught by a sleet storm and frozen in his hiding-place. So
you see his life is not altogether an easy one.

"The young Grouse stay with their parents until they are old enough to
choose mates for themselves; but the flocks are never as large as the
covey Bob White musters about him.

"The American Woodcock, the last of the trio, and the most wary of all,
belongs to a family of shore birds who patter about the water's edge;
but he does not often go in wading, and prefers seclusion in the woods
that border swamps. He is a worm and grub eater who, by the aid of his
long straight bill, which has a sensitive tip like your finger, can feel
his food when it is out of sight, and is able to probe the soft mu