DOGS, AND THEIR CHARACTERISTICS. 361 
blinding snow or floating ice, he never questioned his 
going, but went and returned at the will of his master. 
In snipe shooting he would point the birds, or 
at heel simply retrieve. His wish was simply the 
desire of his master. He seemed to know the birds 
always arose up-wind, and he would approach noise- 
Jessly or with a loud racket, whichever way he thought 
would afford the best shot to the hunter. I have time 
and again seen him point snipe coming down-wind, 
then make a wide circuit aud come up-wind, with loud 
splashing, to drive the bird toward the hunter. 
He showed his greatest skill in prairie chicken shoot- 
ing, and he was the only dog 1 ever saw that would 
work successfully on them in a November and Decem- 
ber corn-field. There isn’t a bird that flies that is 
harder to approach than an old chicken that has sur- 
vived the fall battles. His experience has made him a 
veteran. He solicits no pension, for he feels perfectly 
capable of taking care of himself. On these old 
warriors Colonel has given his owner, Mr. Tate, and 
myself many pleasant afternoons. In the corn-field the 
dog would trot along through the standing corn, care- 
ful not to step on reclining stalks, or make the slightest 
noise; finally he would strike a trail, then the utmost 
caution would be exercised. As the trail grew fresher, 
he would creep silently along half crawling; then stop 
and look around at us, as if invoking caution. When 
he felt he had located the birds, he would slowly return 
to us, then go back of us: we knew what to expect. 
He had found where the birds were, and they had quit 
running and were hiding. Then we would separate— Mr. 
Tate and I. In a short time there would be a racket 
in that field, as if made by a steer running wildly, —it 
