GETTING ON GAME 
29 
even a staid old English Bull dog—never 
have I seen so many pheasants in one bunch. 
I could not see Byrd from where I was, but 
my companion could, and I asked him what 
she did. 
“There she is, still standing like a little 
rock,” he answered, with as much enthusi¬ 
asm as if she had been his own. But I didn't 
know what to think about it. She had 
flushed the big birds, to be sure, whether ac¬ 
cidentally or otherwise. Yet, having done 
the deed, she was absolutely stanch to wing. 
I put it down to astonishment at the size of 
them (the first pheasants she had ever seen) 
and the great racket they made that she 
remained steady to wing, rather than from 
any correct definite intention on her part. I 
think she was simply too astonished to move 
—else I feel sure she would have chased 
them. She had not yet reached the stage of 
development where I might even expect 
steadiness of this sort from her. In which 
diagnosis I believe I am correct. 
Be that as it may, the day of the pheas¬ 
ants marked a milestone in the training of 
Byrd. From then on I think she was just a 
