The Prairie Sharp- tailed Grouse 199 



will see the birds squatted in the grass and, per- 

 haps, have one after another turn and run a few 

 yards before taking wing. When thus seen they 

 are very handsome, the crest is raised, and the 

 white hinder feathers show like the flag of a deer, 

 or the scut of a cottontail rabbit. Almost invari- 

 ably the flush is straggling, giving a quick man 

 a fine opportunity for scoring again and again. 

 At the proper season, i.e. just before the broods 

 begin to pack and become wary, this bird affords 

 sport to be long remembered. I have enjoyed 

 it to the full, and know of nothing better for a 

 business-harassed man than a day on the sunny 

 open with the sharptails behaving well. Like 

 all prairie-grouse, this bird, rising close, is an 

 easy mark for whoever has learned not to be hur- 

 ried by the sound of wings. A good twelve- 

 gauge, properly held, should stop its buzzing 

 and clucking fully three-fourths of all reasonable 

 chances. 



Once I spent a week with a western man who 

 was that rare combination of dead shot and micro- 

 scopic observer. He was semiscientific, too, and 

 exceeding wise regarding the ways of bird and 

 beast. One glorious day the pair of us had shot 

 till midafternoon, and were lounging on a little 

 knoll while the dogs got some needed rest. 

 About two hundred yards away was a small hay- 

 stack, perhaps ten feet high. It happened that 



