IN THE WOODS OF ANDROSCOGGIN. 



J. T. MONROE. 



I had promised my young friend, Harry, 

 a day's sport with the grouse, and on a fine 

 October morning we started, with my dog 

 " Skip " scampering joyfully ahead. A walk 

 of a mile brought us to a bush bordered 

 ravine through which gurgled the head- 

 waters of Bog brook, on its way io the An- 

 droscoggin and the sea. 



Here Skip flushed a big drummer, who 

 headed for a clump of beech, and in a mo- 

 ment the voice of the dog was heard indi- 

 cating the chosen tree. Harry, never having 

 shot a grouse, was told to circle the tree un- 

 til a good sight was obtained and bag the 

 game. The report of his breechloader was 

 soon heard and the bird darted away through 

 the branches, but did not go far before I 

 brought him to the ground. 



On down the stream we tramped and from 

 the left rang out Skip's well-known signal of 

 " here she goes." Down the side of the 

 hill, through brush and briar came the bird, 

 plump into a large hemlock. Long before 

 I could reach a position to shoot, the dog 

 was barking under and around the tree in 

 which the grouse sat. The moment my head 

 emerged from the brush in sight of the bird 

 she was ready to fly again, but hastily throw- 

 ing up the gun I caught her before she could 

 start. Sending Harry and the dog across 

 the brook to beat the bush and still working 

 down stream, we put up a flock of 4 or 5, 

 but they disappeared ahead of us through 

 trees too thick to afford a shot. Going on, 

 the dog started one of these birds again, and 

 I shot her just as her feet touched the limb 

 of an old maple at the edge of a clearing. 

 Passing through this pasture, which was 

 dotted with pine scrub, Skip flushed first 3 

 and then 2 more birds, who whizzed straight 

 ahead into a thick growth of swamp ash bor- 

 dered with spruce. This time Skip could 

 not locate them, and side by side Harry and 

 I carefully advanced, peering up, around and 

 everywhere. 



Suddenly, near the top of a dead ash fully 

 60 feet from the ground I saw a dark, glossy 

 coated animal which I at first thought a 



coon. Walking to within gunshot, I saw 

 the animal was a good sized porcupine. I 

 shouted to Harry, " Do you want to shoot 

 a porcupine? If you do come here." He 

 chose a position while I grabbed Skip's col- 

 lar and at the report of the gun, down 

 came a 15 pound birch peeler. His quills 

 have been the death of many a brave dog; 

 for once buried in a living body they work 

 their way through flesh and bone for perhaps 

 months, and if no vital spot is pierced in 

 their passage will finally appear and may be 

 extracted. 



Continuing our search for the grouse I 

 caught sight of a noble bird, standing erect 

 with crest and ruff elevated. His pride went 

 before destruction and he disappeared into 

 my game bag. It being near lunch time we 

 went to a farm house for a drink of water. 

 Entering the porch to rest we were sur- 

 prised to find Skip with every nerve in a 

 tremor, whining with an occasional yelp 

 under the impression that he " was treeing " 

 a dead cock grouse which hung from the 

 porch ceiling. I don't believe Skip enjoyed 

 his dinner, for with every mouthful, he would 

 gaze at the bird with a puzzled air and when 

 leaving he glanced back several times to as- 

 sure himself he was not needed to capture 

 the bird. 



We now entered a growth of wood with 

 here and there an apple tree, just the ground 

 for grouse, and while passing along an old 

 wood road the dog flushed a big cock that 

 smashed through leaves and branches 

 straight toward a large fir. I caught a 

 glimpse of the bird and sighting the choked 

 barrel on him, pulled the trigger. I did not 

 hear him fall, but walking on toward the 

 tree I was surprised to find Skip holding the 

 dying bird. Sending the dog back to the 

 place from which he started this one, he 

 flushed another that offered a much easier 

 shot than the first. A little farther on Harry 

 shot a rabbit. Soon after we came out on 

 the highway and turned our steps home- 

 ward, carrying 5 grouse, a rabbit and a por- 

 cupine. 



" This may very properly be termed ' kill- 

 ing game in season,' " remarked the star 

 boarder as he mashed an ant which he had 

 found in the pepper. 



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