THE SHARP-TAILED GROUSE. 87 



wind with high-raised nose and inquiring sniff 

 of the breeze, then, suddenly giving it up, gal 

 loped on again. He had gone scarcely three 

 hundred yards beyond the place where the last 

 bird rose, when he suddenly slackened speed and, 

 like a cat sneaking for the best position from 

 which to spring, he swung around to the full 

 play of the breeze, then, crouching low, crept a 

 few paces ahead and settled to a statuesque 

 position. 



As we went to him there was a roar and a 

 flash of white some sixty yards ahead, but both 

 guns thundered and the white fell into the ferns 

 before it had fairly cleared the nodding gold of 

 the sunflowers. Before we could exchange con- 

 gratulations there was another burst of white 

 ten yards beyond the last, another simultaneous 

 roar of two barrels, another whirl of white and 

 brown into the ferns. I do not guarantee these 

 distances, because in these days, when so many 

 busybodies are measuring everything instead of 

 guessing in the good old way, it doesn't take as 

 many yards to make a long shot as it used to. 

 Each one declaring that the other had killed 

 both birds (well knowing the compliment would 



