116 UPLAND SHOOTING. 



locating the nearest bird of a scattered covey, on com- 

 paratively open ground. 



As a show of humility seemed proper, in view of his 

 late success, Ben asked: " Where will these go, Jim?" 



"Probably straight away," came the answer; " there's 

 plenty of room and cover, so you take one side, and I 

 will the other; but keep your eyes open, for we are likely 

 to raise one anywhere." 



Some poor shooting followed. Seven shots brought 

 but three birds to bag, while the next covey found gave 

 eight shots, in three flushings, and only two birds. It 

 was now 9 o'clock. One of Jim's located coveys, being in 

 adjoining woods, was sought for, but failed to materialize. 



"Well," said Jim, in response to another premature 

 outburst of humility, "they probably haven't settled 

 yet for the day, for I don't believe they've been dis- 

 turbed, so we'll take a bee-line for their nearest food, and 

 save some of ' em the trouble of walking clear home. ' ' . 



"Ah! great head that of yours, Jim. Ever have it 

 examined for bugs?" 



"Never did," said Jim, laconically; "but you'll be| 

 scratching yours about 4 o'clock, and wondering how you; 

 are three behind instead of two ahead." 



And so it proved. 



The prophecy regarding the absent covey also came 

 true, and resulted in the bagging of four grouse. Two 

 were taken from a covey found along the creek at noon, 

 seven from two early afternoon coveys, and three from 

 the huckleberry -patch at the end of their circuit. 



Just as the rays of the setting sun were making 

 rubies of the glass in Jim's chamber window, the two 

 tired sportsmen emerged from the woods back of the 

 house. 



"That ain't much of a house," said Jim, apologetic- 

 ally, pointing at the modest little cottage, with its flam- 



