224 UPLAND SHOOTING. 



ing stories, of a sudden some watchful eye would espy 

 the dim outline of a flock in the distance. Instantly 

 there was a great commotion among the hunters. " They 

 are coming! They are coming! '' would hurriedly be passed 

 from mouth to mouth, and the hunters would at once dis- 

 perse, seeking a place for concealment in the neighboring 

 woods, or lie prone behind the sloping hills. What 

 immense flocks passed over us there! 



One bright afternoon, I was early on the grounds. 

 The flight usually began about 5 o'clock, but this day 

 there were so many birds moving, that it seemed as if 

 they had consulted, and thought it best to obtain an 

 early start. About half -past 3, a few scattering flocks 

 dotted the horizon, and swept gracefully over the timber. 

 I located myself so the sun shone on my back, and was 

 under their line of flight. At first, they flew in flocks of 

 from 300 to 500. Many of the flocks consisted entirely of 

 males, then others of females. One could not imagine a 

 prettier sight than a drove of the males, rising up over 

 our heads as they swept on graceful wings out from the 

 valley below. The sky was cloudless, except here and 

 there tiny crests of white dotted and made deeper the 

 blue background, while the setting sun cast its mellow 

 rays on the purple heads, the blue necks and backs, the 

 golden orange, the cinnamon and copper color of their 

 breasts, until their sparkling feathers cast a sheen, and 

 filled the air with brilliant colorings. The main body 

 first appeared at 4 o'clock; the flock was fully 100 

 yards wide, and densely massed together. Shot after shot 

 was fired into them, the only effect being a momentary 

 opening; then they quickly closed together again, and 

 advanced as before. Each moment I expected to see the 

 end of this trailing army of crimson and blue, but there 

 was apparently no end. Time and again the deep double 

 report of some heavily loaded gun would roar through- 



