THE SHARP-TAILED GROUSE. 89 



vanished over the ridge. We went to the top, 

 and some four hundred yards down a gentle 

 slope we saw the dog's head and back above the 

 grass. He looked around to see if we were 

 coming, and then moved slowly on some thirty 

 yards. We walked a few yards ahead of him, 

 when forty yards farther on some thirty grouse — 

 two coveys evidently united — rose with riotous 

 hubbub. One bird went bouncing into the grass 

 at the sound of the guns, and another shook 

 some snowy down from its tail and went whiz- 

 zing away after its companions. The whole 

 flock flew over half a mile and settled in a patch 

 of long slough-grass. There was but little over 

 an acre in the piece, and the grass was about 

 waist-high. It was likely the birds would lie 

 very close in this, but they were so wild that no 

 chances could be taken ; and as we had come 

 twenty-five miles for this shooting, we deter- 

 mined to make the best of it, especially as the 

 birds would in a few days be too wild to hunt 

 with a dog at all. 



As we swung to the leeward two hundred 

 yards from the grass, the cool, strong breeze 

 blowing over it brought the dog to a halt. Fifty 



