CHAPTER THREE THE GROUSE 



I FOUND the nest of a grouse with eight eggs, or 

 rather egg-shells, within two hundred yards of a small 

 farm-house on a part of my shooting-ground, where 

 there is a mere strip of heather surrounded by cultiv- 

 ated fields,andon a spot particularly infested by collie-dogs, 

 as well as by herd-boys, et id genus omne. But the poor bird, 

 although so surrounded by enemies, had managed to hatch 

 and lead away her brood in safety. I saw them frequently 

 afterwards, and they all came to maturity. How many sur- 

 vived the shooting-season I do not know, but the covey 

 numbered eight birds far on in October. If the parent bird 

 had selected her nesting-place for beauty of prospect, she 

 could not have pitched upon a lovelier spot. The nest was 

 onalittle moundwhere I always stop, when walking in that 

 direction, to admire the extensive and varied view — the 

 Bay of Findhorn and the sand-hills, the Moray Firth, with 

 the entrance to the Cromarty Bay, and the bold rocky head- 

 lands, backed by the mountains of Ross-shire. Sutherland, 

 Caithness, Inverness, and Ross-shire are all seen from this 

 spot; whilst the rich plains of Moray, dotted with timber, 

 and intersected by the winding stream of the Findhorn, 

 with the woods of Altyre, Darnaway, and Brodie, form a 

 nearer picture. 



It is a curious fact, but one which I have often observed, 

 that dogs frequently pass close to the nest of grouse, part- 

 ridge, or other game, without scenting the hen bird as she 

 sits on her eggs. I knew this year of a partridge's nest 

 which was placed close to a narrow footpath near my 

 house; and although not only my people, but all my dogs, 

 were constantly passing within a foot and a half of the bird, 

 33 c 



