In the world of sporting literature, the ruffed grouse holds a position of respect that borders on awe. It is well known for its wariness, the explosiveness of its flush, and its capacity once airborne to take evasive action, maneuvering its way through a maze of tree limbs like a star halfback. Hunter or not, if you spend time in the woods, chances are you have been startled by the heart-stopping flush of this native of our thickets.
Can this awe-inspiring rocket possibly be the same mottled brown and gray bird that in the next couple of months you might see standing confused in the middle of the road wondering how it got there? The same bird that sometimes crashes into kitchen windows? Same species, yes. But the confused bird is most likely a juvenile of four or so months just embarking on its perilous dispersal from its natal flock. It’s the size of an adult – at 17 to 25 ounces, it’s bigger than a pigeon but slighter than most chickens – but it doesn’t have an adult’s experience. Out seeking its own territory, it literally doesn’t know where it is. But before we join it on this trip, let’s start with the egg.
Surviving in the egg long enough to hatch is itself an accomplishment, for it means that the nest has remained undiscovered for up to 40 days: two weeks or so while the 8 to 12 eggs are being laid, at the rate of one every day and a half, and an additional 24 to 26 days of incubation beneath the hen. The clutch of brown eggs sits on the ground in a nest that is little more than a hollowed-out depression in the leaf litter, often at the base of a tree or stump. The nest will be positioned so the hen can sense approaching predators, but it’s no wonder that some nests are discovered and the eggs consumed by crows, ravens, weasels, and raccoons.
If they do hatch, grouse practically hit the ground running. Unlike most birds, grouse are ready to leave the nest as soon as they are dry. Insects provide an important source of protein as the chicks are feverishly working to develop muscles, bones, and feathers. If they come up against a stretch of cool, wet weather before their feathers have developed enough to offer some protection, the smallest chicks will not survive. The clutch of 12 could be reduced by a third within a couple of weeks.
Those that survive will be flying by the time they are five days old. Smaller than a hummingbird, they will take their first short flight, lighting on a branch in response to some danger.
Be assured that there’s plenty of danger. Besides weasels and raccoons, other mammals such as foxes, coyotes, and fishers enter the predatory picture. Grouse hens are masters of a trick that many mother birds employ when they feel a predator is too close to their young. The hen calls attention to herself with the most pitiable display of a feigned injury. She will drag her wing, make all sorts of commotion, and do her best to look like an easy supper. When the predator takes the bait and follows the faker, who skillfully manages to keep just beyond its reach, the children are left safely behind.
But the greatest threat – now and for the rest of their lives – comes from raptors, especially the great horned owl and the goshawk. Avoiding overhead predators is the reason that grouse prefer young forests with impenetrable brush and thick stands of saplings. By mid-July, with the chicks now larger than a dove, the dozen that hatched may now number five or six.
Those five or six have learned a lot traveling with mother and have grown remarkably good at filling their crops with the efficiency of the omnivore, supplementing insects with seeds and leaves, then berries, grapes, and apples. At four months, and full size, they get the message it’s time to make their own way in the world. The males leave first and will travel a couple of miles in search of an available drumming log, which will become the center of its 6- to 10-acre domain for the rest of its life. Within a couple of weeks, the females leave, and they disperse even farther, and the territory they choose will likely overlap that of a cock from a different flock.
Of the original dozen, on average only three will survive the dispersal. But those that do will have developed skill in the evasive tactics that have earned the ruffed grouse such great respect.