Very little is really known of the part played by these musical instruments of the Anatidæ, nor, for the matter of that, of most of the “musicians” among birds. Of some of the game-birds more has been gleaned, and among these surely the most interesting is the love-song or “lek” of the Capercaillie. With the advent of April the cock, just before dawn, repairs to some favourite tree—used year after year—and there performs a most astonishing if unmusical serenade; with outstretched neck, drooping wings and spreading tail he gives forth a weird, uncouth kind of song, more or less divisible into three parts. He begins with a series of notes which remind one of nothing so much as the sound made by two sticks knocked together at intervals of ten to fifteen seconds, getting quicker and quicker, and changing in key till at last they become bell-like. Then follows a series of sounds like the drawing of a cork out of a bottle, and these end with bird-like twitterings. By this time, however, the singer has worked himself up to an ecstasy of fervour and passion so intense as to deaden him to all that may be passing in the outer world. During these moments no sound disturbs him, partly, apparently, because the excitement of the “song” causes a turgid condition of the blood-vessels which for the time effectually deafens him. “Sportsmen,” in Swedish and other European forests, knowing this, select such performances as affording the most favourable time for Capercaillie shooting, only cocks being selected.