Grouse of the Northern Cattle Plains 77 



advantage he can. I remember, for instance, one 

 time when we were traveling along the valley of 

 the Powder River, and got entirely out of fresh 

 meat, owing to my making a succession of ludi- 

 crously bad misses at deer. Having had my faith 

 in my capacity to kill anything whatever with the 

 rifle a good deal shaken, I started off one morning 

 on horseback with the shotgun. Until nearly noon 

 I saw nothing ; then, while riding through a barren- 

 looking bottom, I happened to spy some prairie 

 fowl squatting close to the ground underneath a 

 sage bush. It was some minutes before I could 

 make out what they were, they kept so low and so 

 quiet, and their color harmonized so well with 

 their surroundings. Finally I was convinced that 

 they were grouse, and rode my horse slowly by 

 them. When opposite, I reined him in and fired, 

 killing the whole bunch of five birds. Another 

 time at the ranch our supply of fresh meat gave 

 out entirely, and I sallied forth with the ranch 

 gun, intent, not on sport, but on slaughter. It 

 was late fall, and as I rode along in the dawn (for 

 the sun was not up) a small pack of prairie fowl 

 passed over my head and lit on a dead tree that 

 stood out some little distance from a grove of 

 cottonwoods. They paid little attention to me, 

 but they are so shy at that season that I did not 

 dare to try to approach them on foot, but let the 

 horse jog on at the regular cow-pony gait a kind 

 of single-foot pace, between a walk and a trot, 

 and as I passed by fired into the tree and killed 



