

SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 361 



of life and fatness, or when following bobwhite 

 through the hazel thicket, or when roaming from pond 

 to pond in search of ducks among the vine-clad arbors 

 of the river bottom. And often the hunter of the deer 

 sees him strut before him as he sits resting on a fallen 

 log, and often, when on the trail of the deer in winter, 

 sees him shake the snow from his lightning wings, as, 

 bursting from its cover, the bird goes whizzing away 

 amid the snow-draped trees. 



Few of those who most love this noble bird have 

 ever seen him in the simplicity of youth, before he 

 has left his mother's side and gone forth to roam alone 

 the spangled shades of the rugged mountain side or 

 the somber shrubbery of the tangled glen. For his 

 hearthstone is too often in the dense mass of sum- 

 mer's wealth, and few are the eyes that can follow 

 him into the deep, dark brake or into the shaggy cov- 

 ering of the mountain's breast, until autumn's frosts 

 have tattered their gay banners and trailed their green 

 glory in the dust. 



For certainty of finding this grouse at home in his 

 early days, with comfort in hunting him, few places 

 have ever equaled the bluff regions of the upper Mis- 

 sissippi. Here this grouse lived and loved, and stayed 

 until long after the autumn leaves were scattered on 

 a thousand winds; and even after the deep snows of 

 winter fell upon his early playground many a one re- 

 mained instead of seeking the covers of the bottom 

 lands. Here he may be found while the trees stand 

 in the full green of summer and before any hue of 



