But now to our subject. Few Grouse are so well known as the Ruffed Grouse, the _Bonasa umbellus_ of Stephens. Everywhere throughout the timbered regions of Eastern North America it is more or less plentiful, ranging from the Atlantic seaboard to the Rocky Mountains, and from Georgia to Nova Scotia. In all our Southern States, Louisiana excepted, these birds exist to some extent, and are also to be found over limited portions of the Missouri region, but, doubtless, more especially about the mouth of the river, and in the contiguous country. In the western parts of the region it is represented by a form which passes with ornithologists as a well-defined, genuine variety. It seems to be wanting in California, but in the wooded sections of the Cascade Range, as well as in the valley of the Willamette in Oregon, where it exists under a new varietal name, it is by no means an uncommon occupant. In the New England, Middle Atlantic and Northern Central States it is that these birds are to be seen to the best advantage, and in the greatest numbers. West of the Mississippi, if we exclude Eastern Kansas, Southern Iowa and the whole of Missouri, they occur, if at all, in comparatively small and isolated parties. In regions which these Grouse inhabit, they are permanent residents, and are never known to move southward with the retreat of warm weather. They are capable of adapting themselves to climatic variations with ease, but not so readily to surface irregularities and their natural concomitants. Dense woods, craggy mountain-sides and the borders of streams are noted places of resort. Lowlands, especially such as are invested with thick growths of small bushes and tall, rank grasses, are not infrequently chosen. When in search of food and gravel, they are known to quit their favorite haunts and betake themselves to the open road, where groups may be seen absorbed in feeding, but not to that extent, however, when the rustle of a moving leaf or the crackling of a twig would pass unnoticed. The slightest noise causes a temporary suspension of labor and a momentary shudder of surprise. All of a sudden, and in the most perfect harmony, all heads are raised and pointing in the direction whence the noise emanated. The keen vision of these birds is not slow in discerning, through the gloomy recesses, the presence of danger; but should nothing of an alarming nature manifest itself, a short parley ensues and business is resumed, though not with the same earnestness and lack of care, however, as before. Greater caution is now observable, and every effort taken to prevent an ambuscade. But let the cause of the alarm, a dog or a man, be close at hand, and the birds immediately strike for the cover, either on foot or by means of flight, the latter method only being adopted in extreme cases, when the other course would be attended by disaster and probable ruin. In the exercise of their cursorial powers, they move with