1 66 The Grouse Family 



away, usually in a straight line a few feet above- 

 the grass. The flush is accompanied by a vigor- 

 ous whirring, the flight being marked by periods 

 of rapid wing-beats alternating with gliding upon 

 set pinions, not unlike the flight of the meadow- 

 lark. Early in the season the birds lie like stones, 

 frequently in thick cover, waiting until almost 

 trodden upon. The flush almost invariably is 

 straggling, the birds getting up singly, and by 

 twos and threes. The old hand knows this, and 

 with an ejector gun and nimble fingers he fre- 

 quently bags half a dozen in swift succession to 

 the one point. Now and then an unusually quick 

 man will bag an entire brood without leaving his 

 tracks. This is the feat of chicken-shooting, and 

 I never will forget one glorious day when, before 

 the keen eyes of a remorseless critic and now fa- 

 mous writer, I dropped eleven singles and doubles, 



nor his frenzied roar of, " Kill her, you ! " when 



the old hen, true to habit, flushed last and was luck- 

 ily dropped full fifty yards away. That little inci- 

 dent was the beginning of a friendship which is 

 worth more than all the game in North America, 

 but it is now an old story. 



Upon another occasion, in South Dakota, I was 

 shooting in company with a quite celebrated trap- 

 shot — peace be to his ashes ! He wanted one 

 hundred chickens to send East for some special 

 purpose, and he declared that he would work the 



