OF A RANCHMAN 155 



fluttering and kicking, and I shot a young 

 one before the rest of the flock rose. To my 

 astonishment the old cock recovered him- 

 self and made off after them, actually flying 

 for half a mile before he dropped. When 

 I found him he was quite dead, the ball 

 having gone clean through him. It was a 

 good deal as if a man had run a mile with 

 a large grapeshot through his body. 



Most of the sage fowl I have killed have 

 been shot with the rifle when I happened 

 to run across a covey while out riding, and 

 wished to take two or three of them back 

 for dinner. Only once did I ever make a 

 trip with the shot-gun for the sole purpose 

 of a day's sport with these birds. 



This was after having observed that there 

 were several small flocks of sage fowl at 

 home on a great plateau or high plain, 

 crossed by several dry creeks, which \v:is 

 about eight miles from the cow-camp where 

 I was staying ; and I concluded that I would 

 devote a day to their pursuit. Accordingly, 

 one morning I started out on horseback 



