388 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING 



found that I had already ten, which I estimated to aver- 

 age not far from three pounds apiece in weight. Just 

 at the end of the knoll, and as we were about to turn 

 back to go to camp, a grouse jumped up before me, 

 at the foot of a clump of aspens, and dived into them, 

 precisely as a ruffed grouse would pitch into a piece 

 of underbrush. Just as I should have snapped at a 

 ruffed grouse, so I snapped at this bird, and a moment 

 later a loud splash in the water, and a muffled drum- 

 ming, told that the shot had reached him just as he 

 was about to cross the river. My companion went 

 down, and riding out into the water, picked up the 

 eleventh bird. 



A little later, on the way home, another grouse 

 sprang from some low aspens at some distance in front 

 of me and pitched into a growth of pines, and this 

 one I snapped at, again, but not with the success of the 

 former shot, for the bird passed through the pines and 

 flew a long way to a little island, where he seemed to 

 go down. 



If I had had a dog and a good shooting pony I 

 could undoubtedly have killed forty or fifty birds in 

 this one place ; but forty or fifty would have been in- 

 excusable slaughter, since there were but two of us 

 in the camp, and we could not have used anything like 

 that number of birds. As it was, those that I got that 

 day lasted us for quite a long time, and most delicious 

 food they were. The white, juicy flesh, sweet, and well 

 flavored from the diet of berries on which the bird 

 had been fed, was most delicate. Properly cooked, no 



