RED GROUSE. 235 



have observed large numbers frequenting even stubble and turnip 

 fields. On 29th September, 1870, when driving from Glenluce to 

 Portwilliam, I noticed upwards of thirty grouse perched on a 

 stone-wall dividing two fields in the immediate neighbourhood of 

 a moor. This was late in the afternoon, just as the dyke was being 

 tipped with the warm hues of approaching sunset, and the birds 

 sat in a line with a curiously regular space between each. None 

 of them appeared to take notice of the conveyance as it went past, 

 and, on looking back and keeping the wall steadily in view for 

 some minutes, I saw eight or ten more birds flying in their direc- 

 tion; so that, in all likelihood, the assemblage would increase as 

 the evening advanced. On mentioning the circumstance to a friend 

 in Portwilliam, I was informed that this habit of settling on stone- 

 walls is not uncommon in that district ; and that as many as forty 

 to fifty grouse are frequently seen ranged on such perches. 

 Poachers, who are aware of the habit, take a raking shot at them 

 as they sit, and often in this way secure three or four brace at a 

 single discharge. 



Although I have spent many solitary hours on the mountain side 

 watching the varied phases of bird life, I feel that it is impossible 

 in words to convey to others an idea of the impressions to be de- 

 rived from repeated communings with nature in the secluded 

 haunts of the gorcock or ptarmigan. Those who have been much 

 on the green wastes of heath that clothe our " Scottish Alps," will, I 

 daresay, prefer their own recollection of sights and sounds to any- 

 thing I might attempt to picture ; and any of my readers who have 

 not yet traversed these trackless solitudes, will find a vivid descrip- 

 tion of a naturalist's night walk in the History of British Birds by 

 the late Professor Macgillivray, where the perils and pleasures of the 

 bird student are gratefully portrayed. Every line of the author's 

 sketch must have been penned when fresh from his lair of heath. 



The true ornithologist, whose rambles extend at times far beyond 

 the mountain home of the Eed Grouse, looks upon this bird with 

 a peculiar interest. Its history, as we have seen, has now become 

 invested with so many unusual features that it may fairly be ques- 

 tioned whether the species is destined to a much longer existence 

 than it has already enjoyed. Those who have visited its haunts 

 at all seasons of the year, will better understand its loss than the 

 mere sportsman, whose acquaintance with it has begun and ended 

 on the moors during the months devoted to its destruction. It is 



