226 A PTARMIGAN DAY. 



I had barely reached the outermost, and what 

 appeared to me the least attractive, disc of my 

 circle, when the setter pitched sharply down with 

 that self-satisfied look back to his master which 

 says as plainly as words, " I have them now." On 

 getting to the dogs' side he rose and stepped 

 briskly forward to the top of a mound, under 

 which the six birds rose together. Two flew back 

 again across the mountain, but four dashed down- 

 wards, making for the peak below. The whole 

 lot were nearly out of reach, but I fired quick at 

 the old cock of the four, when he dropped his legs 

 and soon after towered and fell. 



The three remaining birds being driven into 

 lower and easier ground, there was every prospect, 

 by following quickly, of soon coming on their 

 traces again. After a flight, white grouse as well 

 as red are much inclined to pitch down under 

 what shepherds call " the snibs " (prominent 

 points) of a hill As soon, then, as I had de- 

 scended to their line and given the dogs a fair 

 wind, I began the quest of these excrescences, and 

 very soon was cheered by both dogs drawing to a 

 dead point. This time the game sprang fair, and 



