Comedy and Tragedy 105 



dimly aware that some little creatures, not much bigger than 

 bumblebees, were scurrying for cover. In a second Dame 

 Grouse returned to the attack. She made the onslaught like a 

 game-cock. My knee was the objective point, and this she 

 buffeted with her body and struck with her beak. I had a 

 Springfield rifle in my hand, but of neither rifle nor man was 

 that valiant mother afraid. Had she but known, it was 

 admiration rather than resentment that was excited by her 

 attack. She prepared herself apparently for another assault, 

 and then suddenly changing her mind, she went whirring away 

 through the clustering trees. She had held the attention of 

 the intruder until her little ones had time to secrete them- 

 selves under the fallen leaves. I hardly dared stir for fear of 

 treading on one of the innocents. I picked my way carefully, 

 and when I reached a point half-way up the ravine's side, I 

 heard the mother grouse calling her chicks to the shelter of 

 her ample wings. 



