Citizen Bird Part 48

CHAPTER XXVII

THREE FAMOUS GAME BIRDS

"If any one should ask you which are the most famous American game birds, you may answer without hesitation, 'Bob White, Ruffed Grouse, and Woodc.o.c.k'--the whistler, the drummer, and the sky dancer--all three good Citizens and handsome, interesting birds.

"Bob White is the most familiar, because in spring, when he feels quite sure that the law will protect his pretty head, he comes out of the thick bushes to the rail fence by the roadside and calls his own name--'Bob--white, bob--white!'--so that the shy mate he desires shall know where to find him. Then if she is hard-hearted and a long time coming he will say--'Bob-white, _poor_ bob-white!' as if craving for pity.

"The last of May the nesting begins, and from then until autumn Bob White tells his name and whereabouts to no one; for it is a very busy season with him. The nest of leaves on the ground may yield during the summer twenty or thirty little Bobs, whom he must help supply with food and teach to walk about and care for themselves.

"In autumn each one of these Quail families--for Mr. Bob White is a kind of Quail--is called a 'covey.' They take to thick brush for winter food and shelter, being very clever at hiding from the sportsman, and only flying from shelter when nosed out by his dog.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Bob White.]

"The Ruffed Grouse is also a bird of woods and brushy places, but at all seasons is more fond of trees than Bob White. It is much larger than Bob, and if seen among the underbrush looks like a small, brown, speckled Hen. Watch one in the spring-time, when he is roaming the woods in search of a mate, and you will see that he is every inch a game bird--a king of game birds too. In early May this Grouse mounts a fallen tree, or the rail of an old fence, and swells his breast proudly till the long feathers on each side of his neck rise into a beautiful s.h.i.+ning black ruffle or tippet, such as you can see in some old-fas.h.i.+oned portraits of the times when Elizabeth was queen of England. He droops his wings and spreads 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 ba.s.s drum.

"Thus does the Ruffed Grouse drum up his mate, as the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 Woodc.o.c.k, the last of the trio, and the most wary of all, belongs to a family of sh.o.r.e 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 mud for things to eat that other birds cannot find. The strangest thing about his bill is, that the upper half of it can be bent at the end, almost as much as you can crook the last joint of your fingers. Such a bill is of the greatest a.s.sistance to him, as his eyes are set so far in the back of his head that he cannot see what he eats."

"How queer!" said Nat; "what is the reason for that? I suppose there must be a reason!"

"This is it. By being placed far back in his head his eyes become like two watch-towers, from which he can scan the country behind as well as in front, and be on the alert for enemies. Woodc.o.c.ks are very cautious birds, keeping well hidden by day and feeding only during the twilight hours or at night.

"They do not pa.s.s the winter in the colder parts of the country, and so escape the suffering that often overtakes Bob White and the Ruffed Grouse. They must be able to brave snowstorms, however, at the latter end of the cold season; for sometimes, when they begin to lay in early April, winter changes its mind and comes back to give them a snow blanket."

"You said that they are dancing birds," said Dodo. "When do they dance?"

"They dance in the sky in spring and summer!" cried Rap, unable to keep still any longer. "I saw a pair of them doing it this year, when I was out with the miller, looking for his colt that had strayed into the big woods beyond the pond. He said he knew there must be a Woodc.o.c.k about, because he saw the little round holes in the mud, where they had been boring for earthworms, and that is the way he knows where to find them in the fall when he wants to go hunting."

"Yes, but how did they dance?" persisted Dodo.

[Ill.u.s.tration: American Woodc.o.c.k.]

"Oh! like crazy things with wings! First one ran around a little and whistled; then one jumped right off into the air, making a whirring with his wings until he was way up out of sight, and then after a little while he came pitching down zig-zag, like a kite that has lost its tail, whistling something like the way a Swallow twitters, and making a queer tw.a.n.ging noise. The other one stayed on the ground and jigged about all the time. I would have liked to watch longer, but we had to find the colt, you know."

"Now write your tables," said the Doctor, "for it is nearly dinner-time."

Bob White.

Length ten inches.

Upper parts mixed reddish-brown, buff, gray, and black, with a white line over the eye and a row of buff streaks on the inside wing-feathers.

Under parts white, black, and chestnut, the breast quite black and the throat pure white in the male, but buff in the female, and other markings much mixed up.

A Citizen of the greater part of temperate North America, and a very valuable one, the prince of the game birds of its family. The bill is stout for crus.h.i.+ng seeds, the head has a slight crest, and the feet have no feathers on the scaly part that goes from the drumstick down to the roots of the toes.

The Ruffed Grouse

Length about seventeen inches.

Upper parts mottled with reddish-brown, black, gray, buff, and whitish, in different blended patterns; on each side of the neck a tuft of long glossy greenish-black feathers in the male, much shorter and not so dark in the female; the tail in both s.e.xes gray or brownish with black bars or mottling, especially one broad bar near the end, and gray tip of the feathers.

Lower parts light buff or whitish with many dark-brown or blackish bars, best marked on the sides.

A Citizen of eastern North America, and a valuable game bird. It lives on the ground and looks like a small Hen, but has a longer and handsomer tail that spreads round like a fan. The bill is stout and the head crested, like the Bob White's; but the feet have little feathers part way down from the drumstick to the toes.

The Ruffed Grouse, like the Bob White, belongs to the Birds that Scratch.

The American Woodc.o.c.k

Length ten to twelve inches--female larger than male.

Upper parts variegated with brown, tawny, and black.

Under parts plain warm brown.

A Summer Citizen of eastern North America, wintering in southern parts of its range, and a famous game bird. A ground bird of marshy woods and near-by fields, though he belongs to the same family as the Snipe, and is therefore cla.s.sed among the Birds that Wade. He has a plump body, with short, legs, neck, tail, and wings, a big head with the eyes set in its back upper corners, a very long bill which is soft, sensitive, and can be bent a little; and the three outside feathers in each wing are very much narrower than the rest.

The dinner bell rang as the children wrote the last words.

"You see," said the Doctor, "that though it is still raining and blowing, the morning has gone in a twinkling, and I now suspect the birthday cake is waiting to be cut."

"Yes," said Dodo, "I've been smelling the flowers and candles that go with a birthday cake for ever so long! And after dinner we can accept Olive's invitation and make candy--can't we, Uncle Roy?"

"I suppose so; and as nothing is too good for a rainy birthday, I will add something more to the feast. I will tell you a birthday secret--or, rather, what has been a secret until now.

"Next mouth we are all going to the sea-sh.o.r.e to spend a few weeks in Olaf's little cabin, to bathe in the salt water, and sail in his sharpie. Then you can ask all the questions you please about the marsh and water birds. You will learn how the tides ebb and flow, and see the moon come up out of the water.

"There! Don't all talk at once! Yes, Rap is coming with us--and his mother also, to help take care of you children, for Mammy Bun must stay here. She does not like to camp out--says she is afraid of getting break-bone fever.

"Come, dinner first, and then talking, or the candles will burn out all alone!"