waned her snowy round, and defers his departure until the very end of au

tumn.

In the Southern States, on the contrary he is found only during the short and genial winter, quitting them altogether during the overpowering heats, which our water-loving friend finds unendurable.

In reply to a question which I propounded some years since, to the readers of the New York Turf Register, "whether in soft and sheltered situations of the most northern of the Southern States, the woodcock may not be found throughout the year," I was in formed by an anonymous correspondent, that among the higher valleys of the Appalachian chain, such is the case throughout the southern portion of that great ridge; and that in the northern parts of Virginia especially they are to be taken at all seasons of the year. For this fact, however, I cannot vouch on my own knowledge, and, indeed, I am somewhat doubtful of its correctness. I prefer, therefore, to consider it as everywhere migratory; and of its migrations I shall speak hereafter, premising only that they are but partially understood as yet, that much mystery is connected with them, and that their circumstances are as interesting as they

are curious.

To describe minutely a bird so well known throughout the length and breadth of the cultivated portions of North America-for it is a singular fact that he is never found in the wilderness, following everywhere the skirts of civilization-would be a work, it should seem, of supererogation. I shall say a few words, however, of his general appearance, in order to indicate the very bird I mean to my readers, beyond the possibility of a mistake. For mistakes are, indeed, possible, owing, as I have observed, to the confused nomenclature of game prevailing in this country; and of this I am a good witness, as I was once dragged up to the summit of one of the highest hills in Orange county, N. Y., by the reiterated assertions of a very intelligent lad, a farmer's son in the vicinity, that he could show me more than fifty woodcock in that unusual and remote spot; the woodcock proving, when I had climbed the ridge, breathless and spent, on a broiling July day, to be large redheaded woodpeckers! utterly worthless

either for sport or for the table, and no more like to Scolopax Minor than was Hyperion to a Satyr.

This beautiful bird, then, varying in weight, when full grown, from eight to eleven ounces-I have heard but one instance of his exceeding the latter-is about thirteen inches in length, measured from the tip of the bill to the extremity of the toes, the bill alone exceeding one-fourth of the whole length; and eighteen in breadth, from tip to tip of the expanded wings. The curious implement by which he obtains all his nourishment is of a highly-polished horny substance, stout at the base, and tapering gradually to the tip, where the upper mandible, projecting considerably beyond the lower, is terminated in a knot of exquisite delicacy and sensibility. The head is somewhat triangular in shape, with the large, full, black eye-constructed, as is the case in all birds which fly or feed by night, so as to catch and concentrate every ray of light-situate nearer the apex, or crown, than in any other bird; a peculiarity which, added to the unusual size of the head, gives a foolish and clumsy air to this otherwise beautiful little fowl. The brow of the adult bird is of a greyish white, gradually darkening until it reaches the crown, where it is shaded into the richest black; the whole hinder parts, from the neck downward to the tail, are exquisitely barred and variegated with a thousand minute wavy lines of black, ash color, cinnabar brown, and umber, the tail feathers having a broad band of black close to their extremities, and beyond this a tip of snowy whiteness. The chin is white, but the throat and breast, nearly as far as the insertion of the thighs, are of a warm yellowish chesnut; the vent and thighs white. The legs, in the young birds, are of an olive green; in the adults, of a pale flesh color. There is no distinction of plumage, that I have been able to discover, between the sexes; nor has any been detected, so far as I am aware, on dissection; and the only difference between the young and old birds, size and weight excepted, is the change in the color of the legs, and the increased whiteness of the forehead.

This interesting bird is rarely or never seen by day, unless by those who are especially in pursuit of him; and

At nightfall, however, he may often be seen on the wing, darting athwart the gloom from the dry upland coverts, in which at many seasons he loves to he, toward his wet feeding grounds. During the hours of darkness he is on the alert constantly; by night he seeks his food; by night he makes his long and direct migrations, choosing for this latter purpose foggy weather, at or about the full of the moon.

By day he lies snugly ensconced in some lonely brake, among long grass and fern, under the shade of the dark alder or the silvery willow, and near to some marshy level, or muddy streamlet's brink during the summer; but, in the autumn, on some dry westering hill-side, clothed with dense secondgrowth and saplings.

In very quiet spots, especially where the covert over head is dense and shadowy, he sometimes feeds by day; and it has been my fortune once or twice to come upon him unsuspected when so engaged, and to watch him for many minutes probing the soft loam, which he loves the best, with his long bill, and drawing forth his succulent food, from the smallest red wire-worm to the largest lob-worm, suitable for the angler's bait when fishing for perch or the yellow bass of the lakes.

It is by the abundance of this food that his selection of haunts is dictated, and his choice of season, in some considerable degree, controlled. On sandy and hungry soils, as of Long Island for example, he is found rarely in comparison, and never in the large congregations which so rejoice the heart of the sportsman in more favored localities. Still more does he eschew sour marsh land and peat bogs, wherein, by the way, the worm he most affects hardly exists; while on fat loamy bottom lands, whether the color of the soil be red or black, rich with decomposed vegetable matter, he may be found in

swarms.

It must be understood, however, that after the young brood have left the parent birds, which departure occurs after the first moult, the woodcock is a solitary bird, acting and moving for himself alone, although the same causes may draw hundreds of them to one neighborhood, and never flying in

season.

Woodcook arrive among us, in the Middle and Northern States, from Pennsylvania so far eastward as to the western counties of Maine almost simultaneously, in February or March, according to the earliness and openness of the season, often before the snow is off the ground. They arrive paired already, and immediately set about the duties of incubation.

The nest is rude and inartificial, consisting merely of a hollow in the ground, with a few straws or rushes carelessly gathered round it, the bill of the old bird proving doubtless an awkward implement for nidification. This nest is made, if made it can be said to be, under the shelter of a reedy tussock or stunted bush, on the verge of large wet meadows; and should the season be dry early, enabling the birds to sit on low ground, and should a sudden flood ensue, numbers of broods are destroyed; a casualty from which I do not consider them secure, until the beginning of June at least, when, in an early season, the young birds are able to shift for themselves.

In such a nest, and in such situations, the woodcock lays from two to six blueish eggs, irregularly blotched with brown. How long the process of incubation continues, I have not been able accurately to ascertain; but I have seen the old birds sitting so early as the 10th of March, yet never have seen young birds able to fly earlier than the middle of May.

The ordinary number of a hatching is four birds, and if the first brood gets off early, the parents immediately proceed to a second incubation; the male bird in this case taking care of the first brood until the second gets off, when all associate together until after the moulting season, when all ties are dissolved, and they know thenceforth neither kindred nor kindness.

I am aware that the fact of the woodcock rearing two broods in the same season has been disputed, but I am thoroughly satisfied of the fact, having repeatedly killed six and eight youngsters, and those of different sizes, with but one couple of old birds; and that, too, in places so small as to render it next to impossible that any should have remained unsprung, and on occasions

My dogs were not well in the alders before the bird rose again, and was going away at her best pace, when my friend's shot stopped her, to my infinite disgust. He is a very quick shot, and in the excitement of the moment forgot everything except the game and the fury of pursuit.

Almost at the same moment, old Chance he was the best retriever I ever saw in any country-picked up from the spot where I had supposed he was snuffing after a field-mouse, a young downy, unfledged woodcock, less than two inches long.

Chance was the finest retriever I ever saw, broke by Mike Sandford, of Newark, and would carry a hurt bird by the tip of his wing, without ruffling a feather; and though it will hardly be believed, I took the little fledgling from his mouth unharmed, and had the satisfaction to see him run away briskly, and hide himself behind a dock leaf.

That day we shot no more, nor indeed that summer; but before we left Orange County, I went again to the same brake, with the old dog, but without a gun, and flushed what I presume to have been the male bird, which, by its simulated crippled flight, again drawing me away from the spot, convinced me that he was watching over his motherless little ones.

Had I needed anything to convince me that woodcock ought not to be shot in July, that scene would have convinced me; and since that day I have never ceased to advocate a change and simplification of our game laws, which should prohibit the killing of woodcock until the first day of October; and make that one day the end of close time for all game whatever, except the ruffed grouse, commonly called pheasant, or partridge, the reason for which exception I shall give under the head of that fine bird, when I reach him in his turn. I am satisfied that this change should be made; because the parent birds do not entirely cease from sitting until the commencement of the moulting season, that is, about the first of August, when they disappear for a while, migrating as some believe, yet farther northward, or, as I fancy, moving to the difficult moun

tain tops, and scattering themselves among the little swales and gulleys which intersect them. This is the first grand reason, and is in itself all-sufficient; for, as close time is only adopted for the protection of the brooding birds, it should, of course, continue until the broods are out of danger.

A second reason is scarce less valid, that not one-tenth part of the young birds, killed in July, are half grown; and consequently afford little sport to the shooter, and are, comparatively speaking, valueless on the table.

A third may be found in the extreme heat of July weather, which renders the sport a toil both to man and dog, and makes it impossible to bring home the game in a state fit to be eaten, even on the day which sees it killed.

Last, not least, the law, as it now stands, can hardly be enforced, so difficult is it to limit men to this or that day, when it appears to be a mere arbitrary distinction. Prohibit the killing of the bird at all during his spring and summer visit; strictly punish those who vend him during that period; let the cause of the prohibition be made thoroughly public, and you will enlist the now law-breakers in the cause of law-protection.

No danger of their anticipating the first of October by a few days or weeks, for this simple reason, that before that day the bird has not returned from his summer rustication, and, consequently, is not there to be killed.

These views I submit humbly, but with full conviction of their justice, to all sportsmen and friends of sporting; and earnestly do I entreat them to give them a fair consideration, if they would save the woodcock from the fate of the heath-hen-expatriation and extinc

tion.

In my next paper I shall treat this question somewhat more fully, as connected with the short moulting migration, with autumn or, technically, fall shooting; with the use and breaking of the dog; and with, what will perhaps be new to some of my readers, the firehunting of the South, as applied to winged game, and shooting on the wing.

The Cedars, Nov. 22, 1845.