108 PKAIRIE AND FOREST. 



down with his first barrel, making a very pretty cross 

 shot. But where were the dogs ? Both down in 

 the grass waiting for us to come, nor could they be 

 persuaded to leave the game they were on to find the 

 victim first killed. After looking for a few moments, 

 we gave it up, I marking the place as near as I knew 

 by dropping my white pocket-handkerchief, intending 

 to return as soon as I had learned what the dogs 

 had found. As we advanced, Beau and Belle rose,, 

 and continued drawing for near a hundred paces more, 

 when they stood. that some artist had been there 

 to sketch them on the spot ! Nothing would I grudge 

 for the picture. The attitude of setter or pointer, 

 when standing, is to me the personification of grace 

 and beauty ; and these were two of the handsomest of 

 the breed that ever gun was fired over. Well, the 

 old story : the birds were put up, so packed that we 

 all had difficulty in singling them ; five more fell to* 

 our lot; the others, after going about sixty rods, 

 dropping, scattered among a thick growth of ironweed. 

 The dogs must, on this occasion, have winded their 

 game at least several hundred yards off, so strong is 

 the effluvium emitted by this game and noble bird. 



The majority of the last brood we killed ; so, ere 

 noon had arrived, our bag consisted of seventy head of 

 prairie chicken fairly bagged. 



Hank selected a well-suited place for our meal, and 

 with otium sine dignitate we passed the meridian hours 

 of the day, happy and contented, at peace with all men, 

 and conscious of the pleasure of successfully following 

 an innocent pursuit. 



We remained under the hedge till after two o'clock, 

 eating, chatting, and smoking, our irrepressible driver 



