TREEING A GROUSE. 45 
It was in October, and the snow was just be- 
ginning to mantle the hilltops in the livery of 
the Frost-king, warning bird and beast that it 
was time to retire into valley-quarters for winter. 
The grouse had come down from the hills, and 
were lying in the long prairie-grass, about a rifle- 
shot from the edge of the bush. They rose 
before my dog singly, and went off to the covert 
like a ball. I had No. 5 shot, and I soon found 
I could not venture to let them go very far. I 
made, however, a very fair bag, finishing off with 
some mallard and bald-pates, as I recrossed the 
prairie to my camping-ground. 
A great qualification in an Indian or trapper’s 
dog is ‘to tree a grouse;’ the dog flushes them, 
and the grouse perch at once upon the branches 
just above the dog’s head, and peer down stu- 
pidly at him, craning their long necks to get a 
peep at the intruder—thinking, doubtlessly, what 
a rare and curious animal it is. The dog, looking 
up as the fox did at the crow in the fable, barks 
and yaps with all his might; this induces the 
gunner to come and see what it all means, and 
he too spies the grouse. If care is used to shoot 
the under birds, often three or four may be killed 
before the others are sufficiently awake to their 
danger to fly off. 
