The following more extended and beautiful sketch, referring to this Partridge, has been very kindly furnished by the same gentleman (Col. McCall), for our present article:—
“The habitat of this species, as I have remarked elsewhere, embraces an extensive region, the limits of which, though not yet positively defined with any degree of accuracy, may, at least with reference to our own territory, be asserted to lie principally within the valley of the Rio Grande or Rio del Norte of Mexico. This valley, although comparatively narrow, contains a country of great extent from north to south; and embraces, in its stretch between the Rocky Mountains and the Gulf of Mexico,—every variety of climate, from the extreme of cold to that of tropical heat. This entire region, not even excepting the narrow mountain-valleys, covered in winter with deep snows, is inhabited by the species under consideration. I have met with it on the Rio Grande and its affluents, from the 25th to the 38th degree of north latitude—that is to say, from below Monterey, in Mexico, along the borders of the San Juan river to its junction with the Rio Grande; and at different points on the latter as high up as the Taos and other northern branches, which gush from the mountain sides. I have also found it, though less frequently, near the head of the Riado creek, which likewise rises in the Rocky Mountains and flows eastwardly to the Canadian; further north than this my examinations did not extend.
“Now, as the Partridge, wherever found, is always resident, there is in the extensive distribution above noted, good proof of a hardiness of constitution possessed by no other species of American Partridge, except the common or Virginia Partridge; for no other species has been found in regions as cold and inhospitable as those I have named. Again, arguing from analogy, if the plainer plumage is always found in birds inhabiting more northern latitudes, my opinion is strengthened when I look upon the plain and sober hues of the Blue Partridge as contrasted with the bright and more decided colors of the Massena, California, and Gambel’s Partridges, all of which prefer the milder regions, and shun those of snow.
“The habits, moreover, of this species are more like those of the common Partridge than either of the others. I have shot these birds over a pointer dog, and at times found them to lie sufficiently close to afford good sport; this, however, it must be admitted, was not often the case, and never, unless the cover was remarkably good; for, in general, they are vigilant and wild, making their escape by running on the first approach of danger. In swiftness of foot none of the family can compete with them. When running, they keep the body erect and hold the head high; and in this attitude they seem fairly to skim over the surface of the ground. On such occasions the white plume is erected and spread out like a fan, or rather like an old fashioned chapeau de bras, worn fore and aft: this gives them a trim, jaunty air, that is peculiarly pleasing and attractive. I remember once being particularly struck with the beautiful appearance thus presented by a large covey that I came upon suddenly in open sandy ground. It was in the month of February, just at sunrise; I was half asleep on my horse, and thoroughly benumbed with cold (having been in the saddle since two hours before daybreak, in order to reach Eagle Spring by breakfast time), when a sudden start of my horse roused me into wakefulness. On looking up, I beheld about twenty of these birds in the trail a few yards in advance. Contrary to their usual manner, they were strutting along, or rather slowly walking away; and with their white chapeaux spread out to the full extent, they glanced over their shoulders and clucked to each other as if uncertain whether danger threatened or not. I drew up my horse and looked on with delight, until the little fellows finally took to their heels and swiftly glided away to the nearest cover. This little incident having restored me to full consciousness, I cast my eyes around, and never shall I forget the sublime prospect that then burst upon my enchanted gaze.
“A more glorious, a more heavenly dawn of day than this, it is impossible to conceive! The heavy dew of the preceding night has been congealed, and the whole country is white with frost. The rising sun casts his broad beams over the vast plain, and in an instant its surface is brilliant with sparkling crystals.
“The abrupt and isolated peaks, whose soft parts the frosts and storms of past ages have loosened and swept away, seem in the distance to rear still higher their lofty summits, now crowned with glittering diadems. On all sides, to the farthest extent of my powers of vision, the varied prospect is open to my view—hereaway, strongly defined, I behold the bold outline of the Apache mountains; yonder, I regard, with admiration growing as I gaze, the countless undulations of the prairie, each as it succeeds the other diminishing in the distance until the last faint wave is blended with the blue horizon. Still admiring as I turn, I find my horse at last fairly faced about; and now another view, the grandest, the strangest of all, is presented to my almost bewildered senses. It is the mirage! Wonderful illusion, cruel mockery—how often hast thou deceived the famished wanderer of the plains with the semblance of water; leading him on farther and farther, and leaving him at last sinking and exhausted in the midst of the desert!
“Behold! I clearly see a broad lake of bright water, with noble trees growing on either hand; and nothing but the positive knowledge that this counterfeit lake lies directly across the road over which I have just passed, and the perfect certainty under which I rest, from actual examination, that neither wood nor water is to be found in that direction within thirty miles, can persuade me that what I now look upon is not real! But I will return from this digression—yet, if this page ever meets the eyes of my two companions on that expedition (Lieutenants B—— and M——, of the 3d), they will remember the glorious sunrise, the mirage, and finally, the covey of Partridges to which I have here alluded.
“This species is found farther to the south on the Mexican side of the Rio Grande than on our own, owing probably to the rugged character of the country there, for I never met with it anywhere in low grounds. The first appearance it makes in Texas is a little above Rhinosa, on the first highlands on this side encountered in ascending the river from its mouth. Thence up to the Rocky Mountains, the birds of this species may be considered denizens of the United States, being about equally distributed on both sides of the great river.”
In a paper in the “Registro Trimestre,” I. p. 144 (Mexico, 1832), Don Pablo de la Llave, an able Mexican naturalist, gives a description of this bird, and names it Tetrao cristata. He had kept it, with other species, in captivity, and of his notice of it we give the following translation: “The second species is considerably smaller than the preceding,” (Tetrao marmorata, Llave, which is Ortyx macroura, Jardine and Selby). “It has on its head a crest of feathers very erect and soft, bill black, the neck moderate, body elongated, much compressed, feet robust, gray or blackish, small, and have, more than in Tetrao, the appearance of the Larks or Buntings. It is almost entirely of a lead color, with the feathers of the breast speckled with black, and those of the sides with many longitudinal bands of white. Its voice is very much varied, and that of the male is loud, sounding like a castanet, at the same time raising and depressing its head.
“I have not observed in this bird any courage;—it is very timid; all its movements are rapid, and notwithstanding that I have fed my specimens for a long time, every day they become more wild and intractable.