Grouse of the Northern Cattle Plains 107 



of one of the larger divides a dark bluish line against 

 the horizon, the color of distant leafless trees, 

 and knew that it meant we should soon open out the 

 valley. Another hour brought us over the last di- 

 vide, and then our hunting grounds lay before and 

 below us. All along through the unbroken natural 

 fields the black-tail and prong-horn abound, and 

 feast to their heart's content all the winter through 

 on the white, luscious, and nutritious mesquite grass. 

 Through the valley with its flashing silver stream 

 ran the dark line of the famous pecan-tree forests 

 the nightly resting-place of that king of game birds, 

 the wild turkey. It would sound like romancing to 

 tell of the endless number and variety of the water- 

 fowl upon the river; while the multitude of game 

 fish inhabiting the waters make the days spent on the 

 river with the rod rival in excitement and good sport 

 the nights passed gun in hand among the trees in 

 the roosts. Of course, as we are purely out on a 

 turkey shoot, during the day no louder sport is per- 

 mitted than whipping the stream, or taking the grey- 

 hounds well back on the plains away from the river 

 to course antelope, jack-rabbit, or maybe even some 

 fine old gobbler himself. 



"When, after our journey, we reached the brink 

 of the canyon, to drop down into the valley, pass 

 over the lowlands, and settle ourselves comfortably 

 in camp under the shadow of the old stockade fort 

 by the river, was a matter of but a few hours. There 

 we waited for the afternoon shadows to lengthen 

 and the evening to come, when off we went up the 



