THE RUFFED GROUSE 35 
first and thus avoid alarming the flock by the 
dead birds’ tumbling down among them. I do 
not say this cannot be done; I only say that I 
have never seen it done—hope [I never shall— 
and while this may take place in the northern 
wilderness, the shooter who counts on getting 
more than one chance at a roosting flock in the 
covers near civilization is laying up material 
for his own disappointment. The Ruffed 
Grouse in my locality, at least, have passed this 
stage in their intellectual development these 
many years, and in the east generally, the 
sportsman fairly earns all of these birds which 
his skill and good fortune combine to bring into 
his hands. 
Though any lawful season is a good time to 
hunt this game, most sportsmen prefer the 
sport when October’s frosts and winds have 
swept some of the brown leaves from the 
branches in the covers, when with the glorious 
autumn weather, the brilliant colors of the flam- 
ing maples, the softer tones of oak and birch, 
chestnut and beech trees, the life-giving Octo- 
ber air, together with a fair prospect of captur- 
ing this gallant bird, there could scarcely be a 
better season to put in a happy day in the 
