442 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING 
where the birds had paused to feed, and found they 
had wandered about in all directions, spreading among 
the leaves. At such places the trail became so in- 
volved that it was difficult to find the direction taken 
when the birds left. When we came to hard or stony 
places a few misplaced leaves or an overturned stone 
or stick were the only things to guide us. Where the 
trail became dim one of us usually went a trifle to the 
right and the other to the left, so that unless the flock 
changed its course abruptly, one or the other was pretty 
sure to find some signs every few yards. Occasionally 
we lost the trail altogether and had to go ahead and 
to ‘cut other tracks’ in softer ground. For a while the 
course followed was very crooked, and several times 
it even doubled back and crossed itself, but late in the 
afternoon it became evident that the flock was working 
toward a branch of Clear Creek Canyon. Shortly be- 
fore sunset the trail became so fresh that we kept a 
sharper lookout ahead, expecting to sight the flock at 
any moment. It was still proceeding in a leisurely 
manner, as was plainly shown*by the number of places 
where birds had paused to scratch out deep pits in 
search of food. At sunset we were quite close to the 
canyon, and I began to fear they would be able to 
roost before we could overtake them. With the idea 
that I could hear for a considerable distance the heavy 
wing strokes they would make in rising to the roost, 
I decided to go ahead and listen, leaving my companion 
to follow the trail as best he could. I had only ad- 
vanced about two hundred yards, to some higher 
