These birds live both on vegetable food and on insects. During the sowing season they visit corn-fields of various kinds, where they do considerable damage. They feed on the barberry, and various other berries growing on low shrubs, on buds of various plants, and on acorns. "In the western country," says Audubon, "these birds frequent the sumach bushes to feed on their seeds, often in such numbers that I have seen them bent by their weight, and I have counted more than fifty on a single apple-tree, the buds of which they entirely destroyed in a few hours. They also alight on high forest trees on the margins of large rivers. During winter these Grouse congregate in large flocks, but as soon as the snows have melted away, and the first blades of grass issue from the earth, announcing the approach of spring, they separate into parties of fifty or more, their love season commences, and a spot is pitched upon to which they daily resort until incubation is established. Inspired by love, the male birds, before the first glimpse of day lightens the horizon, fly swiftly and singly from their grassy beds to meet, to challenge, and to fight the various rivals led by the same impulse to the arena. The male is at this season arrayed in his full dress, and enacts his part in a manner not surpassed in pomposity by any other bird. Imagine them assembled to the number of twenty by daybreak; see them all strutting in presence of each other; mark their consequential gestures, their looks of disdain, and their angry pride as they pass each other. Their tails are spread out and inclined forwards to meet the expanded feathers of their neck, which now, like stuffed frills, lie supported by the globular, orange-coloured receptacles of air from which their singular booming sounds proceed. Their wings, like those of the Turkey Cock, are stiffened, and declined so as to rub and rustle on the ground as the bird passes rapidly along. Their bodies are depressed towards the ground, the fire of their eyes evinces the pugnacious workings of their minds, their notes fill the air around, and at the very first answer from some coy female the heated blood of the feathered warriors swells every vein, and presently the battle rages. Like Game Cocks, they strike and rise in the air to meet their assailants with greater advantage. Now many close in the encounter; feathers are seen whirling in the agitated air, or falling around them tinged with blood. The weaker begin to give way, and one after another seek refuge in the neighbouring bushes. The remaining few, greatly exhausted, maintain their ground, and withdraw slowly and proudly, as if each claimed the honours of victory. The vanquished and the victors then search for the females, who, believing each to have returned from the field in triumph, receive them with joy. It not unfrequently happens that a male already mated is suddenly attacked by some disappointed rival, who unexpectedly pounces