"The Pinnated Grouse," says Audubon, "moves through the air with frequent beats, after which it sails with the wings bent downwards, balancing itself for a hundred yards or more, as if to watch the movements of its pursuer, for at this time they can be easily observed to look behind them as they proceed. They never rise when disturbed without uttering four or five distinct clucks, although at other times they fly off in silence. The ordinary voice of this species nearly resembles that of our domestic fowls, but during the pairing season the male utters a peculiar call.
"The curious notes," continues the same writer, "emitted in the love season are peculiar to the male. When the receptacles of air above alluded to, which in form, colour, and size resemble a small orange, are perfectly inflated, the bird lowers its head to the ground, opens its bill, and sends forth, as it were, the air contained in these bladders in distinctly-separated notes, rolling one after another, from loud to low, and producing a sound like that of a large, muffled drum. This done, the bird immediately erects itself, refills its receptacles by inhalation, and again proceeds with its 'tootings.'" Audubon observed in those Prairie Hens he tamed, that after producing the noise the bags lost their rotundity and assumed the appearance of a burst bladder, but in a few seconds became again inflated. He caught one of these birds and pierced the air-cells with the point of a pin, after which it was unable to "toot" any more. Another bird, of which he punctured one cell only, was unable to inflate that one, but next morning could toot with the other, though not so loudly as before. As soon as the pairing and fighting season is over, the bladders collapse and are concealed beneath the feathers of the ruff. During the winter they are much reduced in size. The bladders and long neck-feathers are seen on the young males before the first winter, and in the spring attain maturity, but they increase in size and beauty for several years.
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 upon him after a flight of considerable length, having been attracted by the cackling of the happy couple. The female invariably squats next to and almost under the breast of her lord, while he, always ready for action, throws himself on his daring antagonist, and chases him away never to return."
In tracts of land in the western country, the Pinnated Grouse may be heard booming and tooting before break of day, and at all hours afterwards until sunset; but in those districts where they have been frequently annoyed by that intruder, man, their meetings are more noiseless, their battles shorter and less frequent, and their fighting-grounds more concealed. Many of the young males fight in the autumn, the females generally joining them to make peace.
The nest is made earlier or later, according to the latitude of the place, between the beginning of April and the end of May. Audubon found a nest in Kentucky finished and containing a few eggs at the first-mentioned date; but he thinks, taking the difference of seasons into consideration, that the average time is about the beginning of May. The nest, which is formed of dry leaves and grass, neatly interwoven, is carefully placed amid the tall grass, or a large tuft in the open ground, or at the foot of a bush. The eggs are from eight to twelve in number, and are of a light colour. The mother sits upon the nest eighteen or nineteen days, and as soon as the young have freed themselves, leads them away from the nest, when the male ceases to associate with her. In autumn the families congregate together in flocks, which at the approach of winter consist of several hundreds. When alarmed, the young squat so closely in the grass as to be quite hidden. "Once," says Audubon, "my horse almost placed his foot on a covey that was in the path. I observed them, and instantly leaped to the ground; but, notwithstanding all my endeavours, the cunning mother saved them by a single cluck. The little fellows rose on the wing for only a few yards. I spent much time in search of them; I could not discover one. I was greatly amused, however, by the arts the mother employed to induce me to leave the spot where they lay concealed."
These birds never have more than one brood during the year; but should the eggs have been destroyed, a second set is laid, generally fewer in number than the first. About the 1st of August the young are nearly as large as the little American Partridge, and are then fit for the table; but they do not become strong in the wing till the middle of October.
The war against these Grouse is carried on in various ways. Some are shot on their breeding-places, others killed with sticks, or caught in nets and snares. "I observed," says Audubon, "that for several nights in succession many of these Grouse slept in a meadow not far distant from my house. This piece of ground was thickly covered with tall grass, and one dark night I thought of amusing myself by trying to catch them. I had a large seine, and took with me several negroes supplied with lanterns and long poles, with the latter of which they bore the net completely off the ground. We entered the meadow in the early part of the night, although it was so dark that without a light, one could hardly have seen an object a yard distant, and spreading out the leaded end of the net, carried the other end forward by means of the poles, at the height of a few feet. I had marked before dark a place in which a great number of the birds had alighted, and now ordered my men to proceed towards it. As the net passed over the first Grouse in the way, the alarmed bird flew directly towards the confining part of the angle, and almost at the same moment a great number of others arose, and, with much noise, followed the same direction. At a signal, the poles were laid flat on the ground, and we secured the prisoners, bagging some dozens. Repeating our experiment three times in succession, we met with equal success; but now we gave up the sport on account of the loud bursts of laughter from the negroes, who could no longer refrain. Leaving the net on the ground, we returned to the house laden with spoil, although I am confident that several hundreds had escaped."
"The Pinnated Grouse," as Audubon further relates, "is easily tamed, and easily kept. It also breeds in confinement. I have often been surprised," he continues, "that it has not been fairly domesticated. While at Henderson I purchased sixty alive that were expressly caught for me within twelve miles of that village, and brought in a bag laid across the back of a horse. I cut the tips of their wings, and turned them loose in a garden and orchard about four acres in extent. Within a week they became tame enough to allow me to approach them without their being frightened. I supplied them with abundance of corn, and they fed besides on vegetables of various kinds. This was in the month of September, and almost all of them were young birds. In the course of the winter they became so gentle as to feed from the hand of my wife, and walked about the garden like so many tame fowls, mingling occasionally with the domestic poultry. I observed that at night each individual made choice of one of the heaps in which a cabbage had grown, and that they invariably turned their breast to the wind, whatever way it happened to blow. When spring returned they strutted, 'tooted,' and fought, as if in the wilds where they had received their birth. Many laid eggs, and a good number of young ones made their appearance; but the Grouse at last proved so destructive to the young vegetables—tearing them up by the roots—that I ordered them to be killed. So brave were some of the male birds that they never flinched in the presence of a Turkey Cock; and now and then would stand against a Dunghill Cock for a pass or two before they would run from him."