The Ruffed Grouse and Grouse Shooting 287 



kill will be long remembered. I suppose I have 

 killed as many grouse of all varieties as the average 

 man who shoots purely for pleasure, yet the inci- 

 dents of not a few days on the prairie are almost 

 forgotten, while those of ruffed grouse covers abso- 

 lutely refuse to down. The remains of shells of 

 mine might be found in the woods of Nova Scotia, 

 New Brunswick, Ontario, Quebec, Maine, Michigan, 

 Wisconsin, Manitoba, Assiniboia, Alberta, British 

 Columbia, Vancouver Island, Minnesota, the Da- 

 kotas, Pennsylvania, and, of course, New York, and 

 along the eastern coast. All these combined would 

 form a very tidy little shooting-ground, with ruffed 

 grouse in most of it. Yet I feel free to say that, 

 could the fired shells be placed in one pile, and the 

 skulls of the slain grouse in a second, the scenic 

 effect would be mighty apt to suggest a brass- 

 mounted mountain and a none too stately mole-hill. 

 Those who have had much to do with ruffed grouse 

 could tell which would be the mole-hill without 

 bothering about going to look. 



The very difficulty of the shooting is one of its 

 greatest charms. Beautiful, strong, and swift, the 

 grouse also is no mean tactician. He not only 

 chooses the most difficult ground, but he is artful 

 to a degree in baffling the efforts of his pursuer. 

 When flushed, he rises with a sudden hollow boom 

 of whirring pinions and makes off with a headlong, 

 reckless dash suggestive of anything rather than 

 cool calculation. Yet those who have closely studied 

 his methods know that no other bird is so quick to 

 take advantage of every natural shelter which can 

 stop the flight of shot. A grouse compelled to rise 



