PTARMIGAN SHOOTING. 95 



" I had just re-loaded, when my guide appeared 

 with a breathless malediction on my gun. He had 

 seen my friend going down the mountain, but quite 

 beyond recall, and, when returning to me, had 

 stumbled on the ptarmigan, most conspicuously 

 perched on the top of a rock. He was in the act 

 of taking his marks, to know the place again, in 

 the hope of finding me, when my shot abruptly put 

 an end to his schemes. The birds were equally 

 dissatisfied with the sound, as their four-footed ally 

 of the crags, and made the same use of their wings 

 as she did of her legs. It was now late ; but as the 

 man had some idea of where they might be, I could 

 not resist the temptation of giving them one more 

 trial. We had almost given up hope, when they a 

 third time rose, very wild, fully a hundred yards off, 

 from a knoll of moss, where they were at feed. My 

 time was now up, so I descended the mountain, well 

 pleased with my day's sport, notwithstanding the 

 mishap at the end." 



Ptarmigan shooting may be set down as the 

 "caviare to the million:" few will think "the play 

 worth the candle," as the French saw has it; the 

 bird being, moreover, to the gourmand (following our 

 experience of its flavour) pretty much like the Irish- 

 man's horse, very hard to catch, and not worth 

 the trouble when overtaken. Ptarmigan change 

 their plumage about October, when they put on a 

 double suit of feathers, in anticipation of winter. 

 They are then white ; in spring they are more brown, 



