March 13. 1897.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
208 
§mtie §Hg met §m. 
PARTRIDGE SHOOTING. 
Among the birds I have mounted this fall is one that 
always carries me back to the golden woods of airtximn, 
when the trees are shedding their richly colored foliage, 
getting ready for the coming of old Boreas. No other bird 
in my. collection fills me so with the spirit of the woods or 
creates that longing to shoulder my breechloader and call 
the dog for one more tramp after its gamy relatives. I 
refer to that lordly ruffed grouse yonder that holds its 
head up like a king— and king it is of allits gamy tribe. 
Talk of the snap shot that dropped the darting woodcock 
jnst as it topped the trembling poplars; of the shot that 
sent the whirring quail heels over head into the grass at 
60yds. from the gun— there was twice the pleasure and 
satisfaction in stopping that cunning old cock as he darted 
from behind yon pine to the dense thicket close to it. 
Picking it up carefully, you smooth down the feathers and 
store it in your game bag. Gladly would you restore it to 
life for the pleasure of hunting it again along the winding 
brook among the pines. The delicate penciling and rich 
blending of brown, black and gray on its back and wings 
match the beautiful leafy carpet of the forest. It belongs 
to the woodland, and has something wild and free about it 
that at once stirs your forest-roving propensities. Added 
to this, cooking does not destroy its gamine.«s. AVhat epi- 
cure would not delight in a dinner of ruffed grouse prop- 
erly fried in butter. Sad to say, some cooks stew all the 
taste out of it. but then the bird is not to blame. 
There is a fascination about the pursuit of this bird that 
never loses its charm so long as the sportsman can handle 
a gun. Hunted, as it generally is, in the balmy weather 
of late autumn, through woods resplendent with all the 
glory of their autumn covering and along running brooks 
of clear water, there would be a fascination without the 
excitement of the chase, but added to which no other sport 
can surpass it. 
No other tries the hunter's skill and endurance so much 
and none is so uncertain. In dense woods, or swamps 
where the underbrush is thick and fallen timber plentiful, 
it is no easy task to tramp all day and be constantly 
on the alert, so as not to lose a shot at this sudden 
riser. Along in the afternoon perhaps you have not seen 
a bird for some time; your vigilance relaxes, the gun is 
shouldered, and instead of watching your pointer, who 
ranges systematically ahead, you look for the best road, 
when whir-r-r-r, up goes a partridge some 20yds. and flies 
off into the next county, leaving you in derision to recover 
from the nervous start he gave you. 
The bird is likely to rise at any distance from 5 to 50yds. 
from you, and does so generally when you least expect it. 
It must watch the shooter, and only rise when, a tree or 
thicket intervenes, darting oflf with a loud whirring noise 
at a fifty -mile rate for less dangerous quarters. This judg- 
ment in timing its flight has saved many an old grouse. 
When put up from the far side of a log or thicket, it gen- 
erally flies low until out of range. The speed of a fright- 
ened partridge is from forty to sixty miles per hour. I 
have often shot behind them when holding 6ft. ahead at 
forty yards. . They fly nearly in a straight line from 100 to 
.SOOyds., according to the shelter and season, for they sel- 
dom stop in poor cover, and they fly further in the latter 
part of the season than in the earlier. They lie much 
closer in the bright and sunny days of September and 
early October than they do in the stormy, windy days of 
I^ovember. 
Two different guns are needed for grouse shooting. The 
first, a cylinder bore, is suited for the early season, when 
the shooting is all at short range in dense cover, as its 
large killing circle increases one's chances greatly and 
does not mutilate the game. You may only see a gray 
streak in dense cover, but fire away, giving lots of lead, 
or the shot will go several feet behind. Hold above all 
bu'ds that rise from the ground and below all that fly out 
of the tree tops. Keep both eyes open and fixed on the 
bird, and then if the gun fits the shooter it will come to 
place at once. Some sportsmen swing with the bird, and 
others hold ahead. Which is the correct or best method? 
Can the shooter keep his eye on the bird and trust to his 
arms to give the desired lead? Would some fellow sports- 
men give their opinions on these important questions? 
No. 6 shot has an average velocity of about 840ft. per sec- 
ond for the first 40yds. Therefore it takes one-seventh of 
a second to go that distance, but in that time a bird going 
forty miles per hour will fly over Sft. It also takes time 
to pull the trigger and for the shot to pass out of the bar- 
rel, so the lead at that range and speed would have to be 
at least 10ft. 
To come back again to the subject of suitable guns, the 
second gun should have the right barrel modified and the 
left full chocked for late fall shooting, when the leaves are 
off' and the birds rise wild and fly far. In September No. 
7 shot is large enough, but later No. 6 will give more satis- 
faction. Whatever you do, don't fail to thoroughly test 
your gun with various loads, combinations of wads, sizes 
of shot and makes of powder, and when you have got the 
best load for your gun use that and no other. My gun 
handles 3drs. of powder and loz. of No. 6 shot better than 
any other load. 
The shooter's clothing should be of some neutral tint, as 
a light gray or brown. It is better too light than too dark. 
In hunting this, the shiest of all game birds, make as little 
noise as possible, especially avoiding loud commands, etc., 
as the human voice is a source of terror to all wild game. 
As for a dog, any real good setter or pointer will do, but 
it must be thoroughly broken. A wild, uncontrollable dog 
is worse than none at all, putting the birds up out of range, 
and often out of sight on ahead. If your dog is a retriever 
so much the better, for there is no harder bird to mark 
down than a partridge, and a wounded one Avill run and 
hide under a log or in some out-of-the-way place where 
you might hunt a week and not find it. I have a pointer 
"bitch, Vic, which I take out and work on birds before the 
season opens to locate the coveys and get her in training. 
Her movements are controlled by the whistle and motion 
of the hand, and her bird sense, owing to long practice, is 
wonderful. She seems to know just where to look for the 
skulking birds. She ranges about 50yds. from me, depend- 
ing, of course, on the density of the" bush, quartering her 
ground carefully at an easy trot, with head not as high as 
some dogs, but meaning business every inch of it. As a 
rule, very fp^y birds are flushed without her pointing, but 
on some days in late fall they will not let a dog get near 
enough to point. Her weight in hunting trim is just 451bs., 
and no amount of work can tire her, which is more than 
can be said of many setters. Another advantage she has 
over her long-haired rival is freedom from burrs, which 
infest many of our best covers. A black or liver-colored 
dog is a constant source of annoyance, for even the point- 
ing of a white dog will sometimes be overlooked in these 
dense thickets. 
I must relate a little incident that happened on a par- 
tridge hunt this fall; for what hunter is not ever ready to 
tell of the M^onderful feats his dog has performed? While 
passing through a small pine grove, the dog was ranging 
some 50yds. off" on my right w^hen she suddenly turned 
and pointed. It was a beautiful picture. IThrough the 
pines was a small creek, and beyond stretched a green 
meadow. There stood the dog as if chiseled out of mar- 
ble, her head out straight in front and her tail straight be- 
hind, its tip trembling with excitement. Her eyes seemed 
to bulge from their sockets, while she measured each 
breath, lest she might disturb the hidden game. She was 
pointing into a small fallen pine which lay alongside one 
of the largest trees in the grove. As I approached she 
moved up a few feet in under the prostrate trunk, and 
there, with back arched under the trunk, came again to a 
point. Walking on tip-toe, I moved up on the other side, 
doing my best to get a view of the bird. As I came up op- 
posite the standing tree Yic pointed again on the other 
side, and before I could take another step the partridge 
came round the trunk and burst into the air like a rocket, 
iust passing within 2ft. of my face. Turning, I snapped 
at it as it disappeared in the thicket, but missed. 
In this part of the country three or four birds in a day 
make a big bag, and we are often glad to get one, but one 
for every four shots fired is considered fair shooting, and I 
have known several hunters to tramp all day and fire from 
six to a dozen shots and then not get any. An additional 
charm is added to the sport by its uncertainty. Hunting 
ruffed grouse is like pursuing the will-o'-the-wisp. Where 
you most expect to find it it is not, but is hiding perhaps 
in some less likely part of the same woods. Although you 
missed the last three or four shots, still your hopes are 
high that perhaps the next one will count. Something 
was wrong with that last bird — the woods were too thick — 
the light poor — of course it was not your fault — and so 
you ti-amp on mile after mile after this phantom bird. 
Don't let me mislead the reader to think that finding 
and hitting these birds are all chance and guess work; far 
from it. There is no other sport that so taxes the hunter's 
skill in shooting and woodcraft. The way our woods are 
stocked to-day the novice might tramp all day and not see 
a bird where the experienced hunter would bag two or 
three. In western Ontario it is found only in large, thick 
woods, a part of which usually is marshy, and through 
which a watercourse runs. It is always found in most 
abundance near water where the woods" are thickest, and 
seems to have a partiality for pines. There are few better 
places than a pine ridae running along a stream or swamp. 
The birds feed upon the pine buds and roost among their 
sheltering branches. These birds stay in the ssfme locality 
all the year round, but may be driven from one part of the 
woods to another by the sportsman, high water or a dearth 
in the food supply. The food consists mostly of buds of 
various plants, partridge berries and fruit, such as berries 
or grapes. The sportsman should never miss an opportu- 
nity to study their haunts and habits, and the better he 
understands them the greater are his chances of success. 
The spring of the year is a good time to discover their 
whereabouts by the drumming incessantly kept up in the 
mornings and evenings. If you can locate the nest or the 
covey of new-fledged birds, so much the better, as they are 
sure to be in the near neighborhood in the fall. 
An article on ruffed grous^ shooting would not be com- 
plete without at least one account of a hunt. Let me ask 
you to accompany my wife and me some hazy day in Octo- 
ber. Starting from home about 9 A. M., we proceed south 
along a creek to the woods, which here run midway be- 
tween the eighth and ninth concessions for more than a 
mile without a break, varying in width from one-fourth to 
three-fourths of a mile. 
The winding Catfish flows through the eastern end of 
this wood, its narrow, shallow basin broadening out near 
the railroad bridge, where it is covered with long, coarse 
grass and dense willow thickets, making the finest wood- 
cock ground in these parts. The woods proper consist 
mostly of large beech maple and elm, with here and there 
small pine groves, and plenty of imdergrowth and down 
timber. The north and south edges are skirted by small 
streams, the southern one rising in a small swamp covered 
with dense willow thickets along the southwestern part of 
the woods. From the above description an old sport would 
at once pronounce it a great place for partridges, and so it 
was. In the early spring, while gathering sap, we could 
hear them drumming on all sides; and in late summer, 
while working my dog, I put up some ten or twelve in one 
covey, besides several other pairs and smaller bunches. In 
season the report of firearms is heard throughout the day, 
but, thanks to Dame Nature, she has placed the birds in 
such covers and endowed them with such cunning and 
power of wing that they still exist in spite of the persecu- 
tion. One shooter told me that he went out one day and 
fired a dozen shots without getting any. In the early sea- 
son I frequently fired six or eight shots without scoring. 
Pressing on along the creek through some dense beech 
thickets and small pines, Vic, slowly worming her way back 
and forth through the cover, suddenly turned and pointed. 
On our moving up a partridge disappeared like a shadow 
in the thicket beyond without giving any chance for a shot. 
Forcing om- way through the briers, we found Vic pointing 
the same bird on the other side of the thicket. As she 
stood there, every muscle in her hard, lean body bulging 
out, we both agreed she was the finest and prettiest dog in 
the country. Whir-r! whir-r-r-r! away went the bird, 
keeping a dense thorn bush between itself and danger 
until out of range. 
Upon entering the woods I noticed a hlack squirrel 
working in a tall bush, so leaving the dog with my wife, 
who had a hard time to hold her. I stalked on in front and 
secured two black beauties. We soon reached Catfish 
Creek, and followed it to the east end of the woods, flush- 
ing two more grouse. One from a tree top over my head 
seemed to dodge the shot as it went thundering down the 
creek. Across the creek was ten or twelve acres of dense, 
low woods and swamp, which we next carefully beatj out, 
and here I made the shot of the day. We were slowly 
making our way over logs and brush through the thickest 
part of these woods when Vic suddenly turned and pointed. 
Hp went a partridge some 20yds. to the right front, going 
like a cannon ball off to my right. The way it went 
through tree tops and missed" limbs in its mad flight was 
surprising to us both. Off to my right was an open glade, 
and as the bird flew across I held ahead and pulled. The 
report was more like that of a cannon than a shotgun; I 
was hurled round, and my partner was scared out of her 
wits. "Did I get it?" "Are you hurt?" was her anxious 
response. "No; guess I must have pulled both triggers bv 
the way it kicked," and so I had. The smoke shut out all 
sight of the bird after firing. Directing Vic to seek dead 
bird, I moved on in the direction of its flight. The faith- 
ful pointer showed game at the edge of a fallen tree, and 
we found the bird, a beautiful cock grouse, Iving on the 
ground just as it bad fallen, stone dead, with "three or four 
shot in its back. The distance to where the dead bird was 
lying was some sixty odd paces. Smoothing down the 
feathers of this beautiful denizen of the forest, we put it in 
the game bag and went on. 
"See, see the partridge, John!" 
"Where? I don't see it." 
"On the ground vonder, running along.' 
But do my best I could not see it. The dog came up and 
pointed, and the bird flew off; but the cover was too thick 
to give me a shot. 
"Why didn't you let me shoot it?" came rebukingly from 
my companion. 
And indeed I felt guilty of uncalled-for selfishness; but , 
men are selfish. e.specially in such circumstances. Shortly 
after she brought a big woodpecker down from a tall elm as 
slick as any man could. Give your wives a fair chance, 
boys. Don't laugh at and scare them when they first try 
to shoot, and they will soon take as much pleasure in it as 
you do. Why should the fair sex be denied the pleasant 
walk, exhilarating fresh air, calm excitement of a day 
afield? During last October and November she brought 
the dog and gun to school at 4 o'clock two or three times 
every week, and we went hunting in the neighboring 
coverts. These hunts shall be always treasured up in our 
memories as among the most delightful moments of our 
lives. The bag, usually a partridge or a rabbit, varied oc- 
casionally by a brace of" quail or woodcock, bore no propor- 
tion to the amount of pleasure, which was greatly enhanced 
by having some one there to share it. 
One evening w^hen returning from one of these hunts 
along the creek the dog was lost to sight for some time in 
the dense thickets. I whistled, but she did not come; so 
concluding she was pointing, we stopped in a little glade 
surrounded by willows, and I got ready to shoot in case a 
bird came that way. Sure enough, on it came straight for 
our stand. Aiming high, I turned it with the right barrel 
and dropped it with my left. By the time I had reloaded 
and was ready to look for it my wife had returned with the 
grouse, and trembling with excitement held it up for my 
inspection. 
"Isn't it a beauty? Won't j'-ou mount this one?" 
To return to the subject. We hunted that woods through 
and ate our lunch sitting on a log beside the creek. After 
dinner we got more woodcock than partridges, for the 
thickets along the creek near the railway bridge are noted-; 
boring grounds of the longbill. The cover here is so dense ' 
that it is impossible to keep track of the dog, which in this 
case took good care of herself, flushing the birds if nobody 
came up when she pointed. It was not long before a par- 
tridge passed directly over our heads in its mad flight for 
cover. Swinging on it, my right was too far back, but the 
left brought it down amid a cloud of feathers in the very 
center of a bunch of willows. This dead bird also was 
pointed by Vic, who has been trained not to retrieve, her 
foi-mer owner using her mostly with other dogs which did 
that kind of work. A shrill, quivering whistle caused me 
to seize my gun and turn round just in time to make a 
snap shot as a woodcock disappeared in the willows, 
but without success. Stooping down, we half walked, 
half crawled under the thicket, bending the smaller bushes 
under foot and raising the larger with our hands until we 
came to another stretch of sod. Another cock rose and flew 
across at some 30yds. range. Missing with the right, I took 
a little more time with my left and had the satisfaction of 
seeing him turn over and fall like a wet rag some 40yd8. 
away in a small maple. Without Vic we would have "lost 
this one, as it looked for all the world like a bunch of dead 
leaves there under the willows and maples. How apt one 
is to shoot too quick, not covering _ the bird carefully 
enough, and consequently losing many birds and only 
slightly wounding others. In a great many cases I have 
missed with the right, but taking a little more time with 
the left killed the bird slick and clean. Nervous shooters 
are apt to get into the bad habit of snapping at everything 
as soon as they see it, making more misses than 
hits, and badly mutilating their game when they 
do hit it. To be able to make a good snap 
shot at the right moment is a great accomplishment, 
especially in grouse shooting, which of all shooting is the 
most snappy, but still there must be an approximately 
correct aim when the trigger is pulled to insure even a 
fair success. Well do I remember an amusing incident 
that happened while hunting with a friend from St. 
Thomas. We had tramped all day, and dusk found us 
approaching a small piece of swamp densely covered with 
willows. The dogs were working on ahead, when up went 
a large woodcock out of range. We marked it down at 
the far side of a small clump of willows that stood out hy 
itself, and calling in the dogs advanced to the attack. To 
make a long story short, that bird got up within easy 
range and went nearly straight away, and may be going 
yet for all the difference our four shots made. And that 
was the last and largest cock of this season. Some farm 
hands husking corn in a neighboring field had the laugh 
on us that time. All sportsmen have their days off and 
days on. In the latter they run up big scores of straight 
kills if game is plentiful, and in the former big scores of 
easy misses, and the harder they try to shoot the worse 
the shooting. That must have been our day off. 
To resume my narrative, we searched that cover thor- 
oughly, flushing one more grouse, and adding a rabbit to 
our bag by way of variety by a lucky snap shot through a 
dense thicket. The shades of eveningwere settling slowly 
over the woods. The long, dark shadows of the pines ex- 
tended across our path. Broad arrows of light descending 
through the scant foliage lit up the beautiful carpet of the 
forest. All the trees have donned their richest ' mantle, 
which now assumes a golden hue in the^rays of the Betting 
