The Ruffed Grouse and Grouse Shooting 297 



grouse in the centre of an almost open space. Doc 

 thought it was a rabbit, and sent me over. There 

 was a clump of dog-roses, and while I was hoping a 

 big grouse might chance to be there, the very bird 

 roared up and was clean killed. Some way, Doc's 

 mirth this time was not what might be termed 

 noisy. 



The next notable event was the pitching of a 

 missed bird into an outlying thicket on my side of 

 the beat. I followed the bird and killed it. At 

 the report a second rose, which also was killed ; 

 then another and another whizzed away before I 

 could reload. As Doc rushed into the open, still 

 another bird roared up and collapsed. Then the 

 dogs drew cautiously on ; something went out one 

 side, while something else fluttered near me. We 

 fired almost together, and as I took a fat woodcock 

 from Mark, Doc shouted " I've got your rabbit 

 do you want him ? " 



When he saw the cock, we ceased to be friends 

 and both tramped into the cover without a word. 

 Soon both barrels told that Doc was busy, and the 

 next moment a bullet-headed beauty came twitter- 

 ing past me, but concluded to bide a wee. For a 

 while, it looked like that rare, highly prized sport, 

 mixed cock and grouse shooting, but only one more 

 lons:bill was found. 



O 



The next move was to the bed of the creek, and 

 we advanced one on either side, the dogs working 

 between. Prettier ground could not have been 

 chosen. The course of the creek's bed was like a 

 winding corridor walled by sturdy trees, and no 

 matter which direction birds took, one gun was 



