Photo Essay
Lesser Prairie Chicken
Hundreds of thousands of prairie chickens once lived on the Llano Estacado. Now only an estimated 5000 remain in Texas. Market hunting in the droughty 1890s initially decimated the population. Year-around stocking of pastures prevented the growth of good cover and the available food supply. Land clearing for farms reduced the available habitat for the surviving birds.
Modern land uses have further diminished the population. Oil field construction of wells, tank batteries, electric lines, and oil field roads changed the original landscape to which the chickens were adapted. Research has indicated that lesser prairie chickens do not like structures taller than a man within their nesting territory, for it gives a place for hawks and owls to perch while hunting. Females are disturbed if an often-traveled road is within a quarter mile of their nest.
During most of the day and most of the year, prairie chickens are almost impossible to see. They use the taller grasses, and sandsage and shinnery shrubs for cover. A prairie chicken relies on its camouflaging and freezes when threats appear. The precocial young feed on insects, walking with their mother across the landscape. Adults not only feed on larger insects, but also grass and forb seeds, as well as shinoak acorns.
In April each year, prairie chickens "lek," gathering together in groups from 10 to 100. The males dance, jump, and "boom" to attract their mates at a lek. They arrive before sunrise and the party lasts until 10 a.m.
The most dominant male usually has a booming territory in the center of the lek. All the males compete for the best locations, so the youngest males are usually at the edge of the lek. Females walk through the booming grounds and mate with the dominant male. The males will gather in a lek from early March until early May, and continue to lek after all the females have been mated.
With careful observation, a person can develop a narrative for explaining the actions of the birds on the lek. The photoessay that follows has two different "faceoffs" of males. No females were present during the day the photographs were taken. (Ten days before these photographs, six females grouped together for a time period and one mated with a male. This occurred before the sun rose, and the females left after sun-up. No photographs were taken of that encounter, for it was too dark, and the birds were too distant for photos.)
Related essays:
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Vegetated dunes surrounded an old oil location that had become well vegetated with low forbs and grasses that greened up with the coming of spring. In the distance is a windmill for livestock. Twelve males continued to perform as the photographer arrived. After this photograph was taken, the photographer moved closer.
In the right foreground is a blooming locoweed. One male, pacing around in the general area of the plant, attracted another male that strolled in his direction.
When the newcomer came close, the locoweed male marched northwest, while the newcomer paralleled him.
After marching 10 yards northwest, the birds reversed course and marched 20 yards southwest.
The newcomer stopped and faced the locoweed bird and boomed.
The birds stared at each other for a minute or two.
The locoweed chicken boomed.
The newcomer began to boom, but then moved closer.
Both birds walked side by side, much closer than before, parading to the southeast again. The newcomer hurried up and got in front of the locoweed bird.
They continued to march southeast.
The newcomer bird spun around, and the locoweed bird visibly reacted...almost flinching.
The newcomer knelt and flicked his left wing.
The newcomer flicked his right wing.
The newcomer flicked his right wing again.
The newcomer began to crouch, and at first, the photographer interpreted the action as submissive.
When the newcomer lowered his head to the ground, the photographer believed that the encounter would end with the newcomer walking away.
Instead, the locoweed chicken crouched and the newcomer stood up. The locoweed bird turned around and took a small fluttering leap away and then ignored the newcomer.
Earlier in the morning, at a different lek, the birds were closer to the photographer. This booming ground was also on an old oilfield location, but the vegetation was completely different, with much more open gravelly ground interspersed with 3-awn grass clumps still tawny and pale from the winter. Even though this lek was less than two miles from the other, the birds were completely different - researchers believe that males stay true to one lek and never visit other booming grounds. Both of these leks have been known booming grounds for almost 30 years.
One nearby chicken kept spinning around in the tall grass, as if he was looking for potential rivals.
When another male did begin to approach, the first one crouched in the grass for a minute.
As the other neared, the first one stood, walked a few feet and began booming.
The first bird cocked his "ear plume," as if he did not like what the new one was saying.
The first bird began "clucking," facing the oncoming chicken, and uttering a rather raucous challenge.
When the first bird began the clucking, the new bird stood upright and alertly watched.
After a moment of watching, the second bird took another step or two forward and then crouched.
The second bird crouched, and both remained crouching for several minutes.
During the just mentioned activity, two birds further away stood facing opposite directions, but the closer of the two left.
The one in the background had become interested in the closer pair.
The one bird left behind turned his back and climbed up on a yucca and hunkered down. The photographer figured he was "taking a break."