Terms, Four Dollars a Year. | 

 Ten Cents a Copy. J 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1876. 



j Volume 7, Number 5. 



1 17 Chatham St. (CityHallSyr.) 



For Forest and Stream. 



]%% with tht i§uffid nt\& <$&* 

 tjndwn %ronzt. 



ON a lovely morning toward the end of September, W. 

 and I started out from the country residence of a 

 friend to have a day with the grouse. Never will I forget 

 the glorious scene which, as we gained the summit of a 

 hill, burst upon our view, and held us entranced in admi- 

 ration at its matchless beauty. Far away in the distance 

 lay the beautiful Bay of Fundy with scarce a ripple on 

 its broad bosom, gently washing the grand old cliffs and 

 headlands, "rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun," partially 

 obscured by their misty mantles which, though torn and 

 parted, still clung to them and disputed possession with 

 the rosy morning sunlight nestling so coyly on their rugged 

 slopes. In the mid-distance a belt of woodland reveling 

 in all the gorgeous coloring of its ripened leaves, pale 

 green and orange, scarlet and gold, mingled in glorious 

 confusion, challenged your admiration, and at your feet 

 the little village lay asleep, with its white spire soaring 

 heavenward and bathed in the soft morning light. With 

 regret we turned from the lovely scene, and whistling to 

 heel our good dogs Ilex and Gipsey, resumed our onward 

 march along the shore road, until arriving at a hard-wood 

 ridge, we turned our dogs into the cover. 



A description of the dog best suited for partridge and 

 grouse shooting may not be cut of place. The dogs we 

 used on this occasion were the result of a cross between 

 the Irish setter and spaniel. A dog broken to tree grouse 

 is almost useless for any other kind of sport. He must be 

 a dilligent hunter, have a good nose, and when the birds 

 are flushed give tongue lustily, watch when they alight, 

 I station himself at the foot of the tree and continue his 

 barling until his master comes to him. He must also be a 

 i good retriever, or many wounded birds would be lost; 

 when one or two birds are shot from a tree where several 

 have alighted, those remaining fly off. The dog must then 

 I follow and take up his position under any tree upon which 

 they may have again alighted, and continue barking until 

 his master comes up, and so on until all the birds are pot- 

 j ted— the latter word I use advisedly, and there is no con- 

 cealing the fact that it is appropriate. I admit that in a 

 ^ day's shooting many shots are obtained at birds on the 

 I wing; but upon the whole the cover is so thick that most 

 | of the shooting is done at birds sitting upon trees. I have 

 often seen a common, dirty, mangy cur prove a capital dog 

 P for grouse shooting, the only faults being that he can sel- 

 i dom be taught to retrieve, and is apt to pounce upon the 

 I bird the moment it drops and mouth it savagely. Fre- 

 quently, when calling at country houses to inquire where 

 the best ground for grouse was to be found, I have heard 

 the merits of a dog owned by the occupant highly extolled. 

 "Upon one occasion, having expressed a desire to see the 

 animal, something bearing a strong resemblance to an ani- 

 mated door mat was produced ; on another, the proprietor 

 holding my "bird dogs," as he termed them, in supreme 

 contempt, kindly offered me the loan of two dogs of his, re- 

 nowned in the neighborhood for treeing grouse; one of the 

 ^animals was a dirty poodle— a regular 



"Muff upon legs, as sits up and begs," 

 'the other I had in my simplicity mistaken for a tame fox. 

 J To resume: We followed the direction our dogs had ta- 

 ken and waited patiently in hopes of bearing them give 

 ^tongue, which desirable result not taking place we whis- 

 tled them to heel, and turned them into the cover on the 

 ^hillside. Presently we heard Rex give tongue, followed 

 rauickly by the whirring of wings and the peculiar note 

 "' actered by the cock grouse when alarmed. Hurrying on 

 [ r we found Hex prancing round a large beech, on which we 

 piscovered several grouse. At this moment Gipsey barked 

 l«t jharply in another direction, and leaving W. I hurried to 

 %gr aid. She was seated at the foot of an old birch eager- 

 ly looking up among the branches and quivering with ex- 

 citement. I had some difficulty in finding out where the 



birds were. At length I discovered a fine old cock grouse 

 seated away up near the top of the tree, and just above I 

 saw the head of another bird. Bang! bang! and down 

 came two plump fellows. Whirr! whirr! whirr! away go 

 the rest of the covey. Gipsey followed them to their next 

 resting-place. After loading I rejoined her. This time 

 she was dancing round under a group of tall birches, 

 but for the life of me I could not make out a bird on any 

 of the trees, and was about to give it up, when I saw the 

 leaves move away up amongst the topmost branches of the 

 tallest birch . Looking intently I discovered what 1 thought 

 to be the breast of a bird partly concealed by leaves. Bang! 

 — I had fired at a piece of loose bark. Whirr! Whirr! flew 

 the birds from a neighboring tree. Bang! and down came a 

 bird — splendid shot on the wing, and worth all the others 

 put together. Calling Gipsey to heel, I set about retreiv- 

 ing the other birds. Being her first day out for the season 

 she mouthed the first bird, but the administration of a little 

 strap made her more careful, and the other birds were re- 

 trieved in beautiful style, which made me all the more 

 sorry for what instantly followed. Having missed her 

 from my side while reloading I w T as wondering what she 

 was after, when I heard her whimpering away off to my 

 right, then give tongue, and the next instant a line buck 

 hare bounded through the open with Gipsey close behind. 

 This being unpardonable, as I had taken especial care to 

 break her from "fur" in her training for grouse shooting, 

 the strap came into requisition again. 1 never have re- 

 course to strapping unless compelled to it by dire necessity; 

 had I shot the hare and passed over the above offense my 

 sport for the day would have been ruined, as she would 

 have hunted hares, squirrels, and all kinds of vermin in- 

 discriminately. 



Having bagged my game I hastened to rejoin W. I 

 found him at the same tree where I had left him. He was 

 in a state of great perplexity. lie had shot one bird, and 

 was unable to find any others on the tree, notwithstanding 

 which Rex kept up an incessant barking, and it was evi- 

 dent that there must be a bird spmewhere on the tiee, 

 which supposition was corroborated by Gipsey joining in 

 and giving tongue lustily at the same tree. After a care- 

 ful examination from every point of view we felt con- 

 vinced that the dogs were at fault, and were giving tongue 

 to the old scent. Before calling them off I desired W. to 

 secure a good position for a shot in case there might be a 

 bird concealed in the tree. Then I picked up some dead 

 branches and began to pelt the tree with them. After the 

 third shot Whirr-r-r-r! flew a grouse from his hiding place 

 away up in the topmost branches; just before he gained the 

 dense cover W. knocked him over. Having retrieved the 

 bird we jogged on in search of more game. After walk- 

 ing some distance we came upon an old winter road; in the 

 true acceptation of the word road there was none. The 

 trees had been felled to allow the passage of teams hauling 

 wood in winter, but in summer it was barely passable for 

 foot passengers. To follow one of these old roads often 

 involves one in endless trouble, as they are intersected at 

 short intervals by others of a similar description, and you 

 are gradually led into a perfect labyrinth, and unless fa- 

 miliar with the country are apt to wander away for miles 

 and experience great difficulty in finding your way out 

 again. One is, however, often led to follow them from the 

 fact that they are much frequented by grouse that come to 

 sun themselves in the open. We had not walked over a 

 quarter of a mile when the dogs began to whimper, then 

 give tongue, and up flushed a covey of Canadian grouse. 

 Bang! bang! and down go two. Bang! and down goes an- 

 other. The rest of the covey flew into cover and were 

 treed by the dogs. Hastening in the direction from which 

 tke barking came we found three birds in an old fir. W. 

 and I each shot a bird. Whirr-rr went the third, but the 

 cover was so dense that we could not discover in what 

 direction . Rex retrieved one bird, and although both dogs 

 hunted the cover most thoroughly the third bird was not 

 forthcoming. After a time they both returned to the tree 

 and kept up such a row at the foot of it that we imagined 

 there must be other birds on it. In vain we strained our 



eyes— not a bird could we discover. Just as we were about 

 giving it up I espied a dead grouse lying upon one of the 

 topmost branches. How to get him was the question, 

 which I solved by climbing the tree after a vain effort to 

 dislodge him by throwing up bits of branches. Returning 

 to the old wood road the dogs retrieved the birds which 

 w r e had shot on the wing. Although many birds are lost 

 by being left in this way to be retrieved at leisure, still 

 there is no help for it; the dogs are broken to follow the 

 birds when flushed and tree them, and if checked to re- 

 cover dead birds the covey would be lost. We now sought 

 a brook which we heard bubbling across the road, 

 and sat down to have a snack and pipe. On the whole we 

 had had a successful morning, having bagged two brace 

 and a half of ruffed grouse and one and one- half brace of 

 Canadian grouse. 



Refreshed by our rest we started off again on the old 

 wood road, and soon were cheered by hearing the dogs 

 give tongue again. We found them both under a tree 

 where three ruffed grouse had alighted. I shot one and 

 the others flew off without offering any chance for a shot. 

 W. followed the dogs and bagged another. While in the act 

 of reloading I noticed the tops of the tali ferns by which I 

 was surrounded waving to and fro, as if swayed by a gen- 

 tle breeze. As there was not a breath of air stirring I was 

 at a loss to account for the cause. Presently I heard the 

 cluck of a grouse, and looking intently I discovered the 

 head of an old cock grouse peering out from the ferns. 

 Motioning W. to come up, I intimated to him what I had 

 seen, and it being a fine open space and likely to afford a 

 shot at the birds on the wing, I moved forward and flushed 

 them. Whir-rr-rr rr! up rose a covey of nine birds. Bang, 

 bang, bang, bang! two splendid right and left shots. Up 

 came the dogs at the report of the guns, and four fine birds 

 were retrieved. The dogs then began beating about on 

 the old scent, and to our surprise flushed three grouse un- 

 der our very noses. I admit that in ordinary shooting it is 

 out of all order to permit your dogs to range to empty 

 guns. However, in grouse shooting some laws are more 

 honored in the "breach than in the observance," and the 

 dogs, after retrieving, are allowed to go on ranging at will. 

 Having reloaded we again found the dogs giving tongue 

 under an old fir; but so dense were the branches we failed 

 to find the birds. It is surprising when in the pursuit of 

 grouse how far one will wander away without being aware 

 of it. We fancied that we were not more than a quarter 

 of a mile from the old wood road, but we walked full four 

 times that distance without finding any trace of it, and at 

 length came out on a path which I at once discovered was 

 not the one which we were in search of. However, as the 

 ground was favorable for grouse, we pursued it. Present- 

 ly we heard the dogs yelping in front of us. After much 

 hunting we came up with them, almost concealed by tall 

 ferns under a group of beeches upon which a covey of 

 grouse had taken up temporary quarters. W. fired and 

 missed. I killed one bird and W. knocked over another on 

 the wing as they went off. 



The dogs showing signs of fatigue, and the day wearing 

 on we decided to return. To do so it was necessary that 

 we should first find the road. We set off in the direction 

 in which we supposed it to be, and tramped for half an 

 hour through dense forests without finding any trace of it. 

 A brook intercepting our way, we followed it in hopes that 

 it would cross the old wood road. No such luck was in 

 store for us, and it became evident that it was leading us 

 still farther into the forest, which latter fact became more 

 apparent every moment as we groped our way through 

 ferns and brakes, growing so luxuriantly as to hide us from 

 each other. <l I say, W., where are you?" "All-right, old 

 boy, come on." On emerging from the brakes I found 

 him leaning against the trunk of a tree, in the most perfect 

 picture of wilderness which the wildest imagination could 

 conceive. Overhead the branches and leaves were woven 

 into a net-work so dense as almost completely to exclude 

 the daylight. The bark of the old beeches and maples 

 were covered with lichens and mosses brown and weather- 

 stained. On some of them, grew strange boles and ex- 



