IV. 



THE PINNATED GROUSE. 



No bird ever lent greater charm to its surround- 

 ings than the pinnated grouse to the prairie. He 

 has been to it more than Bob White to the frosty 

 stubble, or the woodcock to the tangled brake. 

 Without him it is no more the prairie, but only 

 a dismal waste. No sound ever wakes more 

 tender feelings than the far-reaching ** Woo — zvoo 

 — zaoo — woo — zvoo'' swelling from the distant 

 knoll before the soft blue of the liverwort beams 

 beside the fading snow-bank in the timber, or 

 the clatonia lights the darkness of the burnt 

 prairie. No bird has so thrilled the novice as 

 the full-grown grouse roaring out of the grass 

 almost at his feet, or caused him such infinite 

 amazement when in sublime confidence he pulled 

 the trigger. And when the ducks have left the 

 frozen slough, the quail gone to the bottoms, 



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