50 UPLAND SHOOTING. 



season, and to the swamp maple and the oak a deeper 

 tinge, blending so perfectly with the yellow of the birch 

 and beech? Or what can surpass the setter's work the 

 eager, swift, yet cautious, pace, the quick turn on scent 

 of game, the poise so stanch and true? or what the 

 active roading of the cocker-spaniel and his merry yelp 

 when the bird is flushed? Truly these are glorious days; 

 golden links between heated summer and cold winter; 

 and of all who love these days, woodcock seem to love 

 them most, and are wont to take advantage of them as 

 they wing their way to southern grounds, furnishing in 

 their flights the best of sport; for though one shoots a 

 favorite cover clean, two or three moonlight, frosty 

 nights will bring others to it again. 

 . But when the cold blasts of November rush through 

 the leafless trees, and the cold nights freeze the loam too 

 hard for the woodcock's bill, then they whistle Their 

 adieux, and are off for a warmer clime, moving south- 

 ward, as in the early spring they came northward, with 

 the change of seasons, until December finds them again 

 established in their winter quarters. 



How the whistle of a flushed woodcock on an autumn 

 morning stirs the blood! what a thrill it sends dancing 

 along the nerves! None can excel it; not even the ruffed 

 grouse, as he springs like a feathery rocket from the 

 bank above one' s head, or from the evergreens almost at 

 one's feet; nor the grouse of the western plains, as he 

 rushes from the stubble; nor the quail, as he whirs from 

 the sedge or corn-field; nor yet the snipe, as he twists 

 away upon the wind. 



The woodcock, too, is unlike these birds in the man- 

 ner of its flight. When flushed, they are up and away- 

 one may be very sure of that; but the woodcock is quite 

 as likely to come into one's face as to go elsewhere, for 

 there can be no dependence whatever placed upon its 



