in which case they are very easily raised. Those that survive acquire all the familiarity of common chickens, and there is little doubt that if proper measures were taken and persevered in for a few years, that they might be completely domesticated. They have been often kept during the first season, and through the whole of the winter, but have uniformly deserted in the spring. Two young partridges that were brought up by a hen, when abandoned by her, associated with the cows, which they regularly followed to the fields, returned with them when they came home in the evening, stood by them when they were milked, and again accompanied them to the pasture. These remained during the winter, lodging in the stable, but as soon as spring came, they disappeared. Of this fact I was informed by a very respectable lady, by whom they were particularly observed. It has been frequently asserted to me that the quails lay occasionally in each other's nests. Though I have never myself seen a case of this kind, I do not think it at all improbable, from the fact that they have often been known to drop their eggs in the nest of a common hen, when that happened to be in the fields or at a small distance from the house. The two partridges above mentioned were raised in this manner, and it was particularly remarked by the lady who gave me the information that the hen sat for several days after her own eggs were hatched until the young quails made their ance. The partridge, on her part, has sometimes been em าท( d to hatch the eggs of the common domestic hen. A friend ine, who himself made the experiment, informs me that of se eral hen's eggs which he substituted in place of those of the partridge, she brought out the whole, and that for several weeks he occasionally surprised her in various parts of the plantation with her brood of chickens, on which occasions she exhibited all that distressful alarm and practiced her usual maneuvers for their preservation. Even after they were considerably grown, and larger than the partridge herself, she continued to lead them about; but, though their notes, or call, were those of common chickens, their manners had all the shyness, timidity and alarm of young part 23-Fish Com. ridges; running with great rapidity and squatting in the grass exactly in the manner of the partridge. Soon after this they disappeared, having probably been destroyed by dogs, by the gun or by birds of prey. Whether the domestic fowl may not by this method be very soon brought back to its original savage state, and thereby supply another additional subject for the amusement of sportsmen, will scarcely admit of a doubt. But the experiment, in order to secure its success, would require to be made in a quarter of the country less exposed than ours to the ravages of guns, traps, dogs, and the deep snows of winter, that the new tribe might have full time to become completely naturalized and well fixed in all their native habits. About the beginning of September the quail, being now nearly full grown, and associated in flocks or coveys of from four or five to thirty, afford considerable sport to the gunner. At this time the notes of the male are most frequent, clear and loud. His common call consists of two notes, with sometimes an introductory one, and is similar to the sound produced by pronouncing the words, "Bobwhite." This call may be easily imitated by whistling, so as to deceive the bird itself and bring it near. While uttering this he is usually perched on the rail of a fence, or on the old limb of an apple tree, where he will sometimes sit, repeating at short intervals "Bob-white" for half an hour at a time. When Covey are assembled in a thicket or corner of a field, and about to take wing, they make a low twittering sound, not unlike that of young chickens; and, when the covey is dispersed, they are called together again by a loud and frequently repeated note, peculiarly expressive of tenderness and anxiety. The food of the partridge consists of grain, seeds, insects and berries of various kinds. Buckwheat and Indian corn are particular favorites. In September and October the buckwheat fields afford them an abundant supply as well as a secure shelter. They usually roost at night in the middle of the field on high ground, and, from the circumstance of their dung being often found in such places, in one round heap, it is generally conjectured that they roost in a circle with heads outward, each individual in this position forming a kind of guard to prevent surprise. They also continue to lodge for several nights in the same spot. The partridge, like all the rest of the gallinaceous order, flies with a loud whirring sound, occasioned by the shortness, concavity and rapid motion of its wings, and the comparative weight of its body. The steadiness of its horizontal flight, however, renders it no difficult mark to the sportsmen, particularly when assisted by his sagacious pointer. The flesh of this bird is peculiarly white, tender and delicate, unequaled in these qualities by that of any other of its genus in the United States. The quail, as it is called in Indiana, or the partridge, as in Kentucky, is nine inches long and fourteen inches in extent; the bill is black; line over the eye, down the neck, and the whole chin, pure white, bounded by a band of black, which descends and spreads broadly over the throat. The eye is dark hazel; crown, neck and upper part of the breast, red brown; sides of the neck, spotted with white and black, on a reddish brown ground; back, scapulars and lesser coverts, red brown, intermixed with ash, and sprinkled with black; tertials, edged with yellowish white; wings, plain dusky; lower part of the breast and belly, pale yellowish white, beautifully marked with numerous curving spots or arrowheads of black; tail, ash, sprinkled with reddish brown; legs, very pale ash. The female differs in having the chin and sides of the head yellowish brown, in which dress it has been described as a different kind. There is, however, only one species of quail at present known within the United States. BELTED KINGFISHER. This is a general inhabitant of the banks and shores of all our freshwater rivers from Hudson Bay to Mexico, and is the only species of its kind found within the United States. This last circumstance, and its characteristic appearance, make it as universally known here as its elegant little brother, the common kingfisher of Europe, is in Britain. Like the love-lorn swain of whom poets tell us, he delights in murmuring streams and falling waters; not, however, that they may merely soothe his ear, but for a gratification somewhat more substantial. Amidst the roar of the cataract or over the foam of a torrent, he sits perched upon an overhanging bough, glancing his piercing eye in every direction below for his scaly prey, which, with a sudden circular plunge, he sweeps from their native element, and swallows in an instant. His voice, which is not unlike the twirling of a watchman's rattle, is naturally loud, harsh and sudden, but is softened by the sound of the brawling streams and cascades among which he generally rambles. He courses along the windings of the brook or river at a small height above the surface, sometimes suspending himself by the rapid action of his wings, like certain species of hawks, ready to pounce on the fry below; now and then sitting on an old dead overhanging limb to reconnoiter. Mill-dams are particularly visited by this feathered fisher, and the sound of his pipe is as well known to the miller as the rattling of his own hopper. Rapid streams, with high perpendicular banks, particularly if they be of a hard clayey or sandy nature, are also favorite places of resort for this bird, not only be cause in such places the small fish are more exposed to view, but because those steep and dry banks are the chosen situations for his nest. Into these he digs with bill and claws, horizontally, sometimes to the extent of four or five feet, at the distance of a foot or two from the surface. The few materials he takes in are not always placed at the extremity of the hole, that he and his mate may have room to turn with convenience. The eggs are five, pure A RIVER PIRATE. |