Mountain Game 139 



hen; and most certainly it deserves the name, 

 The members of this particular flock, consisting of 

 a hen and her three-parts grown chickens, acted 

 with a stupidity unwonted even for their kind. They 

 were feeding on the ground among some young 

 spruce, and on our approach flew up and perched 

 in the branches four or five feet above our heads. 

 There they stayed, uttering a low, complaining 

 whistle, and showed not the slightest suspicion when 

 we came underneath them with long sticks and 

 knocked four off their perches for we did not wish 

 to alarm any large game that might be in the neigh- 

 borhood by firing. One particular bird was par- 

 tially saved from my first blow by the intervening 

 twigs ; however, it merely flew a few yards, and then 

 sat with its bill open, having evidently been a 

 little hurt, until I came up and knocked it over with 

 a better directed stroke. 



Spruce grouse are plentiful in the mountain for- 

 ests of the northern Rockies, and, owing to the ease 

 with which they are killed, they have furnished me 

 my usual provender when off on trips of this kind, 

 where I carried no pack. They are marvelously 

 tame and stupid. The young birds are the only ones 

 I have ever killed in this manner with a stick; but 

 even a full plumaged old cock in September is easily 

 slain with a stone by any one who is at all a good 

 thrower. A man who has played much base-ball 

 need never use a gun when after spruce grouse. 



