390 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING 
grouse, big, and straight flying, getting up with a roar, 
and almost at once plunging into the dense thicket. 
There were ruffed grouse, simple birds, that you some- 
times saw walking about on the ground not far from 
your feet, but ready enough, after they had been 
pointed by the dog and kicked out from their hiding 
place, to practice all the arts that their cousins use 
three thousand miles away. Then, finally, there were 
the California quail, big flocks of them, more often 
heard running through the underbrush than seen, yet 
sometimes rising in thick flocks and darting off like 
little blue bullets through the timber. 
It was here that, in company with two or three Vic- 
toria sportsmen, I first saw dogs used on the blue 
grouse; not always with success, for two wild young 
puppies, blundering excitedly through the underbrush 
and the heavy green forest, flushed the birds, some of 
which took refuge in the branches of the tall cedars 
or Douglas firs, quite out of reach of the shotgun. 
There was one old white setter, however, which re- 
garded the younger dogs not at all, but trotted method- 
ically through the forest in businesslike fashion. To 
him and to his owner I attached myself, and during 
the day had the opportunity to see him point half a 
dozen birds in most workmanlike style. The grouse 
lay well, and did not run ahead of the dog, as an edu- 
cated ruffed grouse would have done. At the same 
time, when flushed, the birds displayed wonderful 
quickness in putting some object between themselves 
and the gun; though in this case, as there were two 
