THE GUN AT HOME AND ABROAD 
green pastures, there were no birds of interest to be seen, save an odd 
red-breasted merganser, with here and there a raven or a common jay. 
It is not till the traveller penetrates the great rock -bestrewn and tangled 
hillsides, the birch and open fjeld region, that he begins to see some of 
the more interesting (and commonly scarce) species that make the wilds 
of Scandinavia their permanent home. 
One of the most engaging species to be met with in the woods is the 
Siberian jay. It flits along before you in a delightfully tame and charming 
manner, the brilliance of the tail reminding one of some giant redstart. 
So inspiring, too, to the naturalist, is the sight of a new species that once, 
when travelling from Trones to Tunsdalen, I felt I must try at all hazards 
to shoot one of these pretty creatures, even though with so terrific a weapon 
as the Mannlicher rifle then in my hand. By a somewhat lucky shot I hit 
the poor little jay in such a manner that the feathers were but little injured, 
and my friend secured an excellent skin from the carcass. 
In the upper Namdalen, as well as in Grondalen, and Tunsdalen, I 
found all the northern game birds, except black-game and hazel grouse, 
fairly plentiful. Black-game I saw only three times, and hazel grouse 
not at all. Fjeld ryper and dal ryper were, however, exceedingly numerous; 
but, charming as they were to the eye, my delight in them was too often 
soured by the distracting effect of their scent upon Bismark, who really 
ought to have known better than to pay any attention to such small fry. 
The great cock of the woods, too, was often in evidence, sometimes crash- 
ing out from the dense pines, or sailing majestically on motionless pinions 
over the tree tops near the timber line. 
At this season the old cock capercailzies live by themselves, or in 
small parties of two or three, frequenting the edge of the timber and 
birch region at a height of about 3,000 feet, whilst the hens are still with 
their broods in the densest cover of fallen logs and raspberry bushes. 
The young cocks soon leave the protection of their mothers, wandering 
off to shift for themselves much sooner than the young hens. Their diet 
is of a highly varied character. The crop of a young cock shot by Mr Lodge 
contained, besides almost every species of northern berries, six or eight 
kinds of leaves. No birch or Scotch fir was there; this food they seem to 
take to only when the land is buried in snow. One day, as I changed my 
hunting ground from Trones to Tunsdalen I encountered a cock caper- 
cailzie engaged in finishing his evening meal. He ran off up a steep hill, and 
just as he reached a convenient elevation from which to commence his 
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