WE WALK ACROSS 109 



Now we had a cock grouse ; and the next and 

 obvious reflection was, Why not cook a grouse ? 



So Hyland cut off the wings, pulled out the tail, cleaned 

 the bird, and then we stuffed him, feathers and all, into 

 the middle of the fire, and collecting- more and more 

 moss piled it on the top. 



From time to time we took a peep just to see how the 

 bird was getting on. But always he was just the same 

 feathered fowl as we had put him in. The feathers were 

 a trifle singed, and that was all. At the end of some 

 half-an-hour it looked just as hopeless. This we could 

 not understand, because the fire really was quite hot 

 inside. So then we began to probe with knives. They 

 seemed to go in very easily. 



There was no doubt about it — the bird was getting 

 soft! 



We gave it another ten minutes or so, and then pulled 

 it out of the fire, determined to have grouse for supper, 

 done or underdone. It came out a perfectly cooked 

 grouse. The feathers, which were barely singed, stripped 

 clean off with the skin ; and there he was, just like a 

 gipsy's hedgehog. 



I can only tell you this, that no grouse ever turned out 

 of the kitchen by your best fancy cook was a patch on 

 this bird. And that it should be so stands to reason. 

 For trussed and roasted in the ordinary way all the tea, 

 so to say, runs out of the tea-leaves. So that I am sure 

 ours is the way in which to cook all feathered game. 



