102 UPLAND SHOOTING. 



bore, one may do a little better if he shoot at the body, 

 but the first fluttering bird is pretty apt to i flush the 

 remainder of the covey. 



Nearly every sportsman has had experience in shoot- 

 ing at sitting birds with a rifle. Being proverbially hon- 

 est, he can confess to frequent misses (when he was a 

 boy when he was a boy), possibly more than one at the 

 same exalted neck, which finally left him, in order that 

 some other beginner might have his little anecdote to tell. 



Another feature known to sportsmen, and lovers of 

 Nature, is the peculiar throb or flap which is often made 

 by this grouse when alighting in a tree, and which dis- 

 closes their location while yet unseen. While obviously 

 made by the closing of the wings, it is not always heard, 

 being more frequent when the bird has attained consid- 

 erable speed before alighting, but often when rising by 

 silent flight to a perch but a few feet from the ground. 

 Whether made at will, or the result of the state of mind 

 when flushed, I know not, but it is not caused by the 

 wings coming in contact with leaves or branches, as I 

 once supposed; for I have heard the sound under con- 

 ditions which rendered such a thing impossible. If 

 caused by the wings striking the perch, the sound would 

 scarcely be intermittent, as the bird rises to its perch 

 at a sharp angle, instead of sitting upon it from above. 



Wing-tipped birds are pretty certain to escape, unless 

 you have a knowing dog. They not only flatten them- 

 selves among the leaves of their color, but quickly hide 

 under stumps and logs, and in cavities at the foot of 

 decayed trees. 



In semi-cultivated districts, they either tree at the 

 second or third flushing, or lie closely. Whenever they 

 fly straight toward a field, or other large opening, distant 

 not more than 150 yards, the probabilities are that they 

 will be found in trees near the edge of the wood. 



