On the open "barrens," where a few tufts of stunted brushwood are alone
found, the remarkable pinnated grouse may be seen in great numbers
running over the ground. Their backs are mottled with black, white, and
chestnut-brown; and the male has two finely ornamented feathers on the
neck, streaked with black and brown. It has also a slight crest on the
head, of orange colour, hanging over each eye in a semicircular form;
and naked appendages, which hang down from each side of the neck, and
can be filled at the will of the bird by air, so that when puffed out
they are like two small yellow oranges. As the breeding season
approaches the males appear, uttering strange cries, puffing out these
wattles, ruffling their feathers, and erecting their neck-tufts, as if
wishing to appear to the greatest advantage before their mates. They
occasionally engage in combats with each other, but their encounters are
not often of a bloody description.
They form their nests rudely of grass and leaves, under the shelter of a
bush or thick tuft of long grass. The hen lays about fifteen eggs of a
brownish-white colour.
The most remarkable feature in the history of these birds is the way in
which they assemble, as winter approaches, in vast numbers, to obtain
protection from the biting force of the north-west winds which sweep
over the Missouri country, by huddling close together.
"As evening draws near," says Mr Webber, who has observed their habits,
"they approach the spot they have fixed on, in the usual manner, by
short flights, with none of that whirring of wings for which they are
noted when suddenly put up; but they make ample amends for their
previous silence when they arrive. From the pigeon-roost there is a
continuous roar, caused by the restless shifting of the birds, and
sounds of impatient struggling, which can be distinctly heard for
several miles. The numbers collected are incalculably immense, since
the space occupied extends sometimes for a mile in length, with a
breadth determined by the character of the ground. The noise begins to
subside a few hours after dark. The birds have now arranged themselves
for the night, nestled as close as they can be wedged, every bird with
his breast turned to the quarter in which the wind may be prevailing.
This scene is one of the most curious that can be imagined, especially
when we have the moonlight to contrast with their dark backs. At this
time they may be killed by cart-loads, as only those in the immediate
neighbourhood of the slain are apparently disturbed. They rise to the
height of a few feet, with a stupified and aimless fluttering, and
plunge into the snow within a short distance, where they are easily
taken by the hand. They will, if disturbed when they first arrive at a
resting-place, change it; but after the heavy snows have fallen, they
are not easily driven away by any degree of persecution. By melting the
snow with the heat of their bodies, and by trampling it down, they then
form a kind of sheltering-yard, the outside walls of which defend them
against the winds."
They have, besides human foes, numberless enemies among the foxes,
wolves, hawks, and other birds. The fecundity of the survivors,
however, keeps pace with the many fatalities to which they are liable.