SHARP-TAILED GKOUSE, ETC. 179 



dense thicket, where they stiffen to "a dead point. There 

 is no hurry. The birds are young, and this is their first 

 interview with dog or man. They do not run or try to 

 hide just squat composedly, as though believing that we 

 could overlook them; but, alas! their cunning is fatal. 

 We get close to them before they are flushed, and then, 

 as they sail away, give them the contents of four barrels. 

 It takes but a glance to mark them down, as their flight 

 is unwavering. The dogs will get the dead; let us look 

 after the cripples. There is one that is winged; it no 

 longer resorts to its old tactics, but hurries away, as fast 

 as its legs will carry it, to the shelter of some tussock. 

 Another is crawling under some leaves, and its brown 

 back is so deceptive that we look twice before we can be 

 sure of our eyes. 



Five birds are bagged, and now we hear the cluck of 

 the mother as she calls her brood about her. Once more 

 we advance. This time they are more wary, but still we 

 get within thirty yards before they rise; and now the 

 dogs have a stronger scent, which they follow for some 

 distance. They flush a covey of males, who are in the 

 vicinity of the females and chickens, though they do not 

 associate with them. They are more easily disturbed, 

 rise higher, and fly faster than did the others, though 

 they are not difficult to hit, nor do they carry away the 

 lead when they are wounded. A very slight injury brings 

 them to the ground, and the only trouble is that, when 

 winged, they go farther than do the young to find a 

 place of concealment. 



There would be no sense in killing more birds than 

 we can dispose of in camp, so we let a dozen suffice, and 

 return to camp before the fishermen have fairly begun 

 their work. 



Such is hunting the sharp-tailed grouse; and just so 

 numerous and so tame will they be found in all these 



