RECREA TION. 



65 



One cool, bright morning, after hav- 

 ing watered and picketted our cayuses, 

 we started back to camp. About the 

 first thing we saw a dozen or so grouse 

 leisurely picking berries and now and 

 then chasing a grasshopper, by way of 

 amusement, perhaps. On our approach 

 they ran slowly ahead of us, with an 

 occasional " chue, chue," when we 

 pressed them too closely. Sam said, 

 " Let's herd them into camp ;" and with 

 a little caution we succeeded in driving 

 them at least a quarter of a mile to our 

 tent by the spring, when the smoke 

 from the camp-fire caused them to flush 

 and they settled in the branches of the 

 big fir tree that sheltered our home. 

 Taking my little .25-calibre Stevens 

 pocket rifle, I shot one in the head, and 

 we soon had it skinned and broiled for 

 our breakfast. Good ! Why, say ; you 

 could raise babies on broiled blue grouse. 

 But I wasn't happy. I had been half 

 frozen all night. Of course I did not 

 rest well and felt just like killing some- 

 thing. I told Sam, as I picked the 

 bones, that when birds got to be such 

 blooming chumps they would let us 

 run them into camp without a kick, they 

 deserved killing, I felt it my duty to 

 see that they were killed, and should 

 start out after breakfast to execute the 

 sentence. Sam said he thought it would 

 be a good scheme to get a few and he 

 would salt them, so they would keep. 



As soon as I had finished eating I 

 turned my plate and cup upside down 

 on the grass, emptied a box of cartridges 

 in my pocket and taking my pocket 

 rifle, told Sam to get a gunny sack and 

 his hunting knife and come on. 



We proceeded to a place near the edge 

 of the hill where the trees were scattered 

 and the ground covered with a mat of 

 fine grass and strawberry vines, and 

 almost as soon as we reached the place 

 Sam cried, " There's one," pointing to 

 an old blue cock that crouched by the 

 foot of a tall pine. Dropping to knee 

 rest I quickly had the bead over his big, 

 lustrous eye and at the crack of the gun 

 over he went, on his back. Sam started 

 to pick him up, as I blew the smoke out 

 of the barrel and slid in another shell. 

 " Hold on, there ; two more." Another 

 knee rest. Crack! and number two be- 

 gan a skirt dance on the lawn. Crack 

 again ! but that was a miss. Then the 

 grouse ran on two or three rods and 



stopped to investigate the noise. Throw- 

 ing myself at length on the ground I 

 took a careful aim and cut loose. The 

 grouse started to fly into a pine tree, 

 but gave up the ghost, when half way 

 up, and came down with a thud. The 

 ball had gone a little low and severed 

 its wind pipe and jugular. One more 

 grouse flushed and went to the top of a 

 tall pine. A body shot charmed it back 

 to earth. Sam said, " Shoot 'em in the 

 neck, like that last one ; then they bleed 

 better." I told him it was a proper 

 scheme, I believed, and would bear it 

 in mind 



A short tramp brought us to a sunny 

 glade and there, on a log, were no less 

 than seven big, blue birds, resting or 

 pluming their feathers. W T e sneaked up 

 behind a big pine, about fifty feet away, 

 and I asked Sam which end of the row 

 I should begin on. *' Always start at 

 the right," was his reply. I opened up 

 and number one went over dead. Num- 

 ber two, ditto ; ditto number three. 

 Number four was a miss. Number five 

 went dead ; number six a miss. Number 

 seven had his bill reduced half an inch, 

 and later on Sam retrieved him with a 

 club. The other two live birds hopped off 

 from the log and walked slowly away. 

 I made a run for the log and was going 

 to shoot the nearest one, but, seeing 

 them come in line, lowered my sight to 

 a body shot, and got both. I told Sam 

 it was a matter of business to save am- 

 munition and strike a higher average in 

 my score. 



From park to park we went. At short 

 range I would shoot them in the head or 

 neck, and when they flushed into the 

 tall pines I would shell their hulls and 

 make them strike colors. 



At last Sam said, "Aren't you ever 

 going to stop ?" I asked him if he was 

 tired of carrying the bag and he said 

 he had emptied it once ! And so he 

 had. As the fifty rounds were nearly 

 gone we started home and I finished 

 them up on two more grouse, a hawk 

 and two gophers. 



Sam salted and dried the breasts of 

 the big blue birds. They taste good yet. 

 From the other portions we had stews 

 and pot-pies innumerable. 



What we did that morning could be 

 repeated any time for a week ; but we 

 had fun and grouse enough and my 

 thirst for gore was satisfied. 



