390 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING 



grouse, big, and straight flying, getting up with a roar, 

 and almost at once plunging into the dense thicket. 

 There were ruffed grouse, simple birds, that you some- 

 times saw walking about on the ground not far from 

 your feet, but ready enough, after they had been 

 pointed by the dog and kicked out from their hiding 

 place, to practice all the arts that their cousins use 

 three thousand miles away. Then, finally, there were 

 the California quail, big flocks of them, more often 

 heard running through the underbrush than seen, yet 

 sometimes rising in thick flocks and darting off like 

 little blue bullets through the timber. 



It was here that, in company with two or three Vic- 

 toria sportsmen, I first saw dogs used on the blue 

 grouse; not always with success, for two wild young 

 puppies, blundering excitedly through the underbrush 

 and the heavy green forest, flushed the birds, some of 

 which took refuge in the branches of the tall cedars 

 or Douglas firs, quite out of reach of the shotgun. 



There was one old white setter, however, which re- 

 garded the younger dogs not at all, but trotted method- 

 ically through the forest in businesslike fashion. To 

 him and to his owner I attached myself, and during 

 the day had the opportunity to see him point half a 

 dozen birds in most workmanlike style. The grouse 

 lay well, and did not run ahead of the dog, as an edu- 

 cated ruffed grouse would have done. At the same 

 time, when flushed, the birds displayed wonderful 

 quickness in putting some object between themselves 

 and the gun; though in this case, as there were two 



