
 
        
         
		confining  part of the angle, and  almost  at  the same moment a  great  number  
 of others  arose,  and, with  much noise, followed  the same  direction.  
 At a  signal,  the poles were laid flat on  the ground, and we secured the prisoners, 
  bagging some dozens.  Repeating  our  experiment  three  times in  
 succession, we met with  equal success,  but now we gave up  the  sport on  
 account of  the loud bursts of  laughter from  the  Negroes, who could  no  
 longer  refrain.  Leaving  the  net on the ground, we returned  to the  house  
 laden  with  spoil,  but  next  evening  not a  Grous was to be found  in  the  
 meadow,  although I am confident  that several hundreds  had escaped.  
 On  the  ground  the  Pinnated  Grous  exhibits none of  the elegance of  
 manner observed- in  the Ruffed  Grous, 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  Grous or "  Pheasant"  
 (Tetrao umhettusj,  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 injured,  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  
 Grous of  Scotland,  or  the  Spotted  Grous of North  America.  
 The  curious notes emitted in  the love season  are peculiar  to  the male.  
 When  the  receptacles of  air, which in form,  colour, 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, refils  its receptacles  by  inhalation, 
  and  again proceeds with  its footings. 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  any  
 more.  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  endeavours to decoy  this species,  by  imitating  its  
 VOL.  II. i i