SHOOTING THE PRAIRIE GROUSE 403 
chickens in Illinois, in the old days, is abbreviated from 
a sketch from the pen of Wilmot Townsend, whose 
charming contributions to Forest and Stream have 
been well known for so many years: 
The prairie has been likened to the ocean, and the 
simile is not altogether wide of the mark; and as one 
looks out over the boundless expanse of rolling grass 
land that spreads on every side until land and sky 
meet on the horizon line, it does not require a great 
effort of the imagination to see the resemblance. 
Though the waving grass gives life to the view, it 
lacks the mighty heave of the ocean; that ceaseless 
pulsing of the waters is wanting; the swelling waves 
of prairie land seem to have stiffened and died, deserted 
by the impulse which gave them birth. 
The mere turning of the sod reveals a rich dark 
loam, that, without fertilizing, will yield immense crops 
of corn and produce a wonderful return in golden 
grain. In late autumn the chickens resort to the fields 
of standing corn to glean, and rich pickings they find. 
On a still, clear morning the scolding of the cocks 
begins at sunrise, and the air resounds with their kek- 
kek! kek-kek! until long after the hoar frost has dis- 
appeared. Then you will see flock after flock leave 
the prairie and enter the corn, there to remain through- 
out the day, unless disturbed. A short hour before 
sunset they run out to the edge and spring into sturdy 
flight for the night bivouac on the open plain. At 
this season these camps of the prairie chicken often 
contain thousands of individuals, representing hundreds 
