cooing
of the parent bird is soon a very audible clucking call, and the young
move cautiously in the direction. Let me step never to carefully from
my hiding-place, and all sounds instantly cease, and I search in vain
for either parent or young.

The partridge is one of our most native and characteristic birds. The
woods seem good to be in where I find him. He gives a habitable air to
the forest, and one feels as if the rightful occupant was really at
home. The woods where I do not find him seem to want something, as if
suffering from some neglect of Nature. And then he is such a splendid
success, so hardy and vigorous. I think he enjoys the cold and the
snow. His wings seem to rustle with more fervency in midwinter. If the
snow falls very fast, and promises a heavy storm he will complacently
sit down allow himself to be snowed under. Approaching him at such
times, he suddenly bursts out of the snow at your feet, scattering the
flakes in all directions, and goes humming away through the woods like
a bombshell,--a picture of native spirit and success.

His drum is one of the most welcome and beautiful sounds of spring.
Scarcely have the trees expanded their buds, when, in the still April
mornings, or toward nightfall, you hear the hum of his devoted wings.
He selects not, as you would predict, a dry and resinous log, but a
decayed and crumbling one, seeming to give the preference to old
oak-logs that are partly blended with the soil. If a log to his taste
cannot be found, he sets up his alter on a rock, which becomes
resonant beneath his fervent blows. Who has seen the partridge drum?
It is the next thing to catching a weasel asleep, though by much
caution and tact it may be done. He does not hug the log, but stands
very erect, expands his ruff, gives two introductory blows, pauses
half a second, and then resumes, striking faster and faster till the
sound becomes a continuous, unbroken whir, the whole lasting less than
half a minute. The tips of his wings barely brush the log, so that the
sound is produced rather by the force of the blows upon the air and
upon his own body as in flying. One log will be used for many years,
though not by the same drummer. It seems to be a sort of temple and
held in great respect. The bird always approaches on foot, and leaves
it in the same quiet manner, unless rudely disturbed. He is very
cunning, though his wit is not profound. It is difficult to approach
him by stealth, you will tr