22 CAMP-FIRES IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES 



" To shoot this grouse ! Look there ! don't you 

 see it? " 



" Yes, I see it. Do you really want that bird? " 



"Wantitf Of course I want it! Get my gun, quick, 

 before it flies." 



" Oh, well, if you want it, I'll get it for you," said 

 Mack. Dismounting, he picked up a small club, threw 

 it at the bird, at very short range, and hit the mark. The 

 bird fell dead; whereupon Mack calmly picked it up, 

 and handed it up to Mr. Monro, saying indifferently, 

 " Here it is." 



" And," said Charlie, " you ought to have seen the 

 disgusted look on Mr. Monro's face as he looked at 

 Mack, and took that bird! " 



I skinned the finest male grouse of the bunch that 

 Mr. Phillips shot. It was seventeen inches in total 

 length, tip of beak to end of tail, with a wing-spread of 

 twenty-four and one-half inches. Its crop contained a 

 dessertspoonful of blueberries, eight blueberry leaves 

 and six needles of the jack pine. The species could not 

 be called plentiful in the region we traversed. From 

 first to last we saw about thirty birds, always in green 

 timber. 



About two hours before sunset we came to a level 

 meadow of a hundred acres, heavily set in rank grass, 

 and lying very low. Two hay-stacks towered aloft to a 

 height of about seven feet, and from them it was evident 

 that we were on the " ranch " of Wild-Cat Charlie, at 

 the Sulphur Spring. We pulled up the steep ridge that 

 bounded the meadow on the west, and went into camp 



