MY FIRST CAPERCAILZIE 53 



hips, and we jumped about in a sort of clumsy 

 waltz. 



Suddenly the huntsman pointed silently 

 with outstretched arm to something dark. 

 A black lump, it looked to me, performing a 

 remarkable dance on the snow. 



It was the cock ! 



Carefully and in silence we crept forward, 

 working our way painfully through the heavy 

 snow. Then after two or three deep breaths, 

 we took aim, the shots rang out, and the mad 

 dancer, the gay troubadour sank lifeless in the 

 snow. 



Even in death he casts a proud glance on 

 the glory of his gay plumage, framed in the 

 purple drops of blood, scattered upon the 

 glittering surface of the snow. The proud 

 fellow has died well, passing straight in the full 

 tide of his love to the eternal hunting-grounds. 



It was my first capercailzie, and a very fine 

 bird. His crop was full of pebbles, ground 

 smooth. These remains of a most remarkable 

 meal I have had set in the cover of a cigarette- 

 case as a souvenir. 



