A BIG DAY'S WORK. 207 
icate, careful step, well suited for progression over eggs. 
As I had seen him do so previously, I knew what was com- 
ing, and called my friends’ attention, so that they might 
gradually close up toward the keen-nosed setter. Belle 
soon saw what Beau was up to, and followed him with 
equally cautious, gingery steps. H. , who was off on my 
right, flushed a bird, which he cleverly cut down with his 
first barrel, making a very pretty cross-shot. But where 
were the dogs? Both down in the grass waiting for us to 
come, nor could they be persuaded to leave the game they 
were on to find the victim first killed. After looking for a 
few moments, we gave it up, I marking the place as near as 
I knew by dropping my white pocket-handkerchief, intend- 
ing to return as soon as I had learned what the dogs had 
found. As we advanced, Beau and Belle rose, and contin- 
ued drawing for near a hundred paces more, when they 
stood. Oh, that some artist had been there to sketch them 
on the spot! Nothing would I grudge for the picture. 
The attitude of setter or pointer, when standing, is to me 
the personification of grace and beauty; and these were 
two of the handsomest of the breed that ever gun was 
fired over. Well, the old story: the birds were put up, 
so packed that we all had difficulty in singling them; five 
more fell to our lot; the others, after going about sixty 
rods, dropping, scattered among a thick growth of iron- 
weed. The dogs must, on this occasion, have winded their 
game at least several hundred yards off, so strong is the ef- 
fluvium emitted by this game and noble bird. 
The majority of the last brood we killed; so, ere noon 
had arrived, our bag consisted of seventy head of prairie- 
chicken fairly bagged. 
Hank sélected a well-suited place for our meal, and with 
otium sine dignitate we passed the meridian hours of the 
day, happy and contented, at peace with all men, and con- 
