The Ruffed Grouse cocked his crested head on one side and looked up
through the bare branches to the sky. It was a soft gray, and in the
west were banks of bluish clouds. "I think it will snow very soon," said
he. "Mrs. Grouse, are the children all ready for cold weather?"
"All ready," answered his cheerful little wife. "They have had their
thickest feathers on for quite a while. The Rabbits were saying the
other day that they had never seen a plumper or better clothed flock
than ours." And her beautiful golden-brown eyes shone with pride as she
spoke.
Indeed, the young Ruffed Grouse were a family of whom she might well be
proud. Twelve healthy and obedient children do not fall to the lot of
every Forest mother, and she wished with a sad little sigh that her
other two eggs had hatched. She often thought of them with longing. How
lovely it would have been to have fourteen children! But at that moment
her brood came crowding around her in fright.
"Some cold white things," they said, "came tumbling down upon us and
scared us. The white things didn't say a word, but they came so fast
that we think they must be alive. Tell us what to do. Must we hide?"
"Why, that is snow!" exclaimed their mother. "It drops from the clouds
up yonder quite as the leaves drop from the trees in the fall. It will
not hurt you, but we must find shelter."
"What did I tell you, Mrs Grouse?" asked her husband. "I was certain
that it would snow before night. I felt it in my quills." And Mr. Grouse
strutted with importance. It always makes one feel so very knowing when
he has told his wife exactly what will happen.
"How did you feel it in your quills?" asked one of his children. "Shall
I feel it in my quills when I am as old as you are?"
"Perhaps," was the answer. "But until you do feel it you can never
understand it, for it is not like any other feeling that there is."
Then they all started for a low clump of bushes to find shelter from the
storm. Once they were frightened by seeing a great creature come
tramping through the woods towards them. "A man!" said Mr. Grouse.
"Hide!" said Mrs. Grouse, and each little Grouse hid under the leaves so
quickly that nobody could see how it was done. One might almost think
that a strong wind had blown them away. The mother pretended that she
had a broken wing, and hopped away, making such pitiful sounds that the
man followed to pick her up. When she had led him far from her children,
she, too, made a quick run and hid herself; and although the man hunted
everywhere, he could not find a single bird.
You know that is always the way in Grouse families, and even if the
man's foot had stirred the leaves under which a little one was hiding,
the Grouse would not have moved or made a sound. The children are
brought up to mind without asking any questions. When their mother says,
"Hide!" they do it, and never once ask "Why?" or answer, "As soon as I
have swallowed this berry." It is no wonder that the older ones are
proud of their children. Any mother would be made happy by having one
child obey like that, and think of having twelve!
At last, the whole family reached the bushes where they were to stay,
and then they began to feed near by. "Eat all you can," said Mr. Grouse,
"before the snow gets deep. You may not have another such good chance
for many days." So they ate until their little stomachs would not hold
one more seed or evergreen bud.
All this time the snowflakes were falling, but the Grouse children were
no longer afraid of them. Sometimes they even chased and snapped at them
as they would at a fly in summer-time. It was then, too, that they
learned to use snow-shoes. The oldest child had made a great fuss when
he found a fringe of hard points growing around his toes in the fall,
and had run peeping to his mother to ask her what was the matter. She
had shown him her own feet, and had told him how all the Ruffed Grouse
have snow-shoes of that kind grow on their feet every winter.
"We do not have to bother about them at all," she said. "They put
themselves on when the weather gets cold in the fall, and they take
themselves off when spring comes. We each have a new pair every year,
and when they are grown we can walk easily over the soft snow. Without
them we should sink through and flounder."
When night came they all huddled under the bushes, lying close together
to keep each other warm. The next day they burrowed into a snow-drift
and made a snug place there which was even better than the one they
left; the soft white coverlet kept the wind out so well. It was hard for
the little ones to keep quiet long, and to amuse them Mr. Grouse told
how he first met their mother in the spring.
"It was a fine, sunshiny day," he said, "and everybody was happy. I had
for some time been learning to drum, and now I felt that I was as good a
drummer as there was in the forest. So I found a log (every Ruffed
Grouse has to have his own place, you know) and I jumped up on it and
strutted back and forth with my head high in the air. It was a dusky
part of the forest and I could not see far, yet I knew that a beautiful
young Grouse was somewhere near, and I hoped that if I drummed very well
she might come to me."
"I know!" interrupted one of the little Grouse. "It was our mother."
"Well, it wasn't your mother then, my chick," said Mr. Grouse, "for that
was long, long before you were hatched."
"She was our mother afterwards, anyway," cried the young Grouse. "I just
know she was!"
Mr. Grouse's eyes twinkled, but he went gravely on. "At last
I flapped my wing's hard and fast, and the soft drumming sound
could be heard far and near. 'Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump;
thump-thump-rup-rup-rup-rup-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r.' I waited, but nobody
came. Then I drummed again, and after that I was sure that I heard a
rustling in the leaves. I drummed a third time, and then, children,
there came the beautiful young Grouse, breaking her way through the
thicket and trying to look as though she didn't know that I was there."
"Did she know?" cried the little Grouse.
"You must ask your mother that," he answered, "for it was she who came.
Ah, what happy days we had together all spring! We wandered all through
this great Forest and even made some journeys into the edge of the
Meadow. Still, there was no place we loved as we did the dusky hollow by
the old log where we first met. One day your mother told me that she
must begin housekeeping and that I must keep out of the way while she
was busy. So I had to go off with a crowd of other Ruffed Grouse while
she fixed her nest, laid her eggs, and hatched out you youngsters. It
was rather hard to be driven off in that way, but you know it is the
custom among Grouse. We poor fellows had to amuse ourselves and each
other until our wives called us home to help take care of the children.
We've been at that work ever since."
"Oh!" said one of the young Grouse. "Oh, I am so glad that you drummed,
and that she came when she heard you. Who would we have had to take care
of us if it hadn't happened just so?"
That made them all feel very solemn and Mr. Grouse couldn't answer, and
Mrs. Grouse couldn't answer, and none of the little Grouse could answer
because, you see, it is one of the questions that hasn't any answer.
Still, they were all there and happy, so they didn't bother their
crested heads about it very long.
[Illustration]