Nov. 23 , I v 13• 
FOREST AND STREAM 
683 
“There Goes A Partridge” 
By FRED COPELAND 
W HEN a lordly old grouse springs from 
his hiding place with a roar of wings 
and whirlwind of brightly colored ma¬ 
ple leaves, how often we hear the well worn, 
but nevertheless welcome, expression, “there 
goes a partridge.” Although the author of the 
expression may be no hunter and far from a 
partridge crank, how he waits, fascinated by that 
wild music of the autumn woodland, for the next 
startled bird and yet the next, coming from 
apparently nowhere; a rapidly fading ghost in 
the adjoining October foliage as matchless in 
color as the bird’s own beautiful markings. 
Likewise the young hunter, too paralyzed to raise 
the muzzle of his gun, announces the departure 
of a grouse with the same expression. But how 
different the veteran as he swings for the un¬ 
known angle and delivers his fire together with 
a prayer for straight powder that often as not 
becomes a “bon voyage” to his favorite bird ere 
the nitro fumes reach his nose. 
Surely not— 
“Every door is barr’d with gold, 
And opens but to golden keys,” 
for the golden-barred doorways of the autumn 
forests both beckon and point to a paradise for 
the lover of these wizard birds of the uplands. 
After the sunny days *of September; after 
October has spread her brilliant blue skies over 
a fairyland of color, and at last have come those 
few fleeting days in November, when the north 
wind sleeps and the brooks murmur a faint pro¬ 
test against their countless dams of fallen leaves, 
now has come the time when the old twelve- 
gauge Parker, the veteran of many a day with 
the birds, is taken from the case and together 
we make for a little Vermont valley that holds a 
few birds strong of wing and sharp of eye. We 
almost laugh aloud with happiness at the familiar 
valley winding away to the west in the warm 
sunshine as we peer cautiously around a small 
spruce at an ancient apple tree nestled in a cor¬ 
ner. At the first peek, an old biddie who has 
been watching with a wry face our careful stalk 
for the tree, thunders out of the lower branches 
for the hillside. The old Parker shouts a flat 
note of welcome, but the branches quiver a good 
foot to the right; the left barrel recoils from 
the shock of the nitro in vain. Misses don’t 
count in gunning for wise old grouse, and with 
the hope that the foxes get none of your little 
brown chicks in the spring the old Parker and 
I put our best foot forward with a fresh load 
in each barrel. 
The cover adjoining the apple tree doesn’t 
hold a bird and we hurry across a little natural 
meadow on the way to the next cover. Half way 
across we come to a full halt with a jerk, our 
eyes almost popping out, as a something two rods 
away takes the form of a cock grouse that in¬ 
stantly grows to the size of a cow. Just as a 
horse will reach down and eat a few blades of 
grass before they die so will a grouse strut along 
a few steps when caught out in the open. When 
this bird had finished that short walk it seemed 
as though he jumped thirty feet without the flap 
of a wing. Gracefully shooting over the mottled 
old drummer a foot or so we settle down at last 
and make a clean kill on one of three lady grouse 
that jumped from nowhere at the first shot. It 
is a long shot, for valuable time was lost in try¬ 
ing to hold on the patriarch of the little flock. 
How plump she is as we pick her up. After 
admiring the matchless markings she is laid away 
in the pocket that has seen many of her an¬ 
cestors, and what a good feeling it is as she 
bumps against your hip and how light the old 
Parker has become. On walking up the remain¬ 
ing birds they flush wild high up in the birches 
and maples, allowing no chance for a shot. 
A start is now made for the home cover of 
a kindly old grouse, a veritable ghost bird, cer¬ 
tainly a bird born under a lucky star. Our last 
encounter with him had been sudden, disquieting 
and fruitless. He had winged his way in slow 
majesty across a cart path so close that he 
seemed to fill the whole foreground. There was 
a driving rain at the time that made the safety 
slide as elusive as a soap bubble and the triggers 
wouldn’t release. But to-day as we swing along 
we recall seeing the other night, Orion, that beau¬ 
tiful and most brilliant of the northern constel¬ 
lations, riding on the eastern horizon over our 
right shoulder, a good omen; certainly the day 
of reckoning is at hand. Upon struggling 
through that bed of thorns, a new barb-wire 
fence, this provoking drummer announces the ar¬ 
rival of a stranger on his northern boundary by 
hopping nimbly from a bunch of dead ferns and 
fluttering to a clump of spruces, a short four 
rods. Seemingly an hour is spent in climbing 
in and out, over and through this prickly fence, 
an invention of the Evil One. We have played 
hide and seek so often with this bird that the 
game starts without a hitch. Merrily we skip 
from cover to cover till a last skip on the part 
of the bird places him on the side of a granite 
ledge sloping enough for a toe hold, but all but 
hopeless on account of a windfall lying at all an¬ 
gles, and the whole nicely festooned with black¬ 
berry briars. Our agility in the early stages of 
the game has led the bird to believe we have 
wings, for how else could he take such an ad¬ 
vantage of us. Knowing well he is in sight a 
rod is gained before he flutters up through the 
tangle like an overgrown woodcock to gain an 
offing before starting on a long flight. For the 
first time the right barrel points true. With 
the report still in our ears we find ourselves rear¬ 
ing and plunging through powder fumes, floating 
feathers, blackberry bushes and windfalls, lost 
to the world in the struggle to get to where that 
partridge is fluttering on the brink of countless 
holes for a long last hide. With mingled feel¬ 
ings of regret and delirious joy we lift him 
gently from his last bed on the dead blackberry 
leaves, a bird in a hundred. How perfect are the 
little hearts marked on each feather above the 
long barred tail feathers, and how the green and 
purple sheen glows on the black ruff. The som¬ 
ber colors run riot in a world of wonderful mark¬ 
ings. Many minutes pass before the left-hand 
pocket of the old hunting coat balances the right 
for the old Parker and I have been lost in 
admiration for the brave bird. 
A long farewell to Indian Summer. Four 
ruffed grouse remain to gladden the valley with 
their muffled thunder in the spring and their 
flocks of chicks in the early summer. May the 
buds be sweet and the strawberry leaves stay 
green on the south slopes during the northern 
winter for these noble game birds of the brave 
heart. 
With an effort we turn our .back on the west¬ 
ern sky, a sea of pink over the first Green Moun¬ 
tain range. What a sight would meet the gaze 
from the summit of yonder range. Lovely Lake 
Champlain would be smiling back at us, a great 
rosy jewel under the evening sky. 
Measures Against Beasts of Prey In Styria 
By PROF. JOS. OFFERMANN 
HE government offered, at first, a prize 
of soo shillings to those who should kill 
the beasts; now a premium of 3000 shil¬ 
lings is promised them by the governor of Styria 
and the home office. About 170 gendarmes under 
a captain of police force are engaged in the very 
hard work of observation in the menaced terri¬ 
tory. In the morning still before the rays of the 
rising sun redden the Alpine peaks, they resort 
to heights of the mountains, where the cattle are 
feeding the whole summer; during the day they 
roam by twos through the rifted district; towards 
the evening they go a shooting anew. During the 
night, when the moon casts her light upon the fir- 
wood, the brave gendarmes are obliged to take 
their rest upon some solitary trees, not far from 
some sheep tethered there. 
A telephone line, constructed by the Styrian 
military staff for the purpose, connects those 
peaks with the capital, Graz, passes through all 
the important places, and leads even on to Carin- 
thia. There are two officers and 21 men, belong¬ 
ing to the telegraph troops, who attend the line. 
A great number of hunters of every rank: peas¬ 
ants, foresters, townpeople, noblemen, undertake 
battues almost daily, but to date without success. 
Even several African hunters and celebrated for¬ 
eigners, who had shot many a lion, have arrived 
in the district. By government order the general 
management of the action against these danger¬ 
ous enemies is entrusted to the commissary, Dr. 
Hofer, in Voitsberg, near Graz. He published 
(Sept. 10 and 21) in various newspapers an invi¬ 
tation, in which all huntsmen were requested to 
take part in the hunt. According to the Austrian 
laws the right of shooting beasts of prey is not 
limited, and the animal killed is the booty of the 
hunter. The council of public instruction has 
granted to the schoolmasters the power of dis¬ 
pensing with those children who, residing in the 
menaced parts of the country, would be endan¬ 
gered on their way to the school. Indeed, the 
schools were closed in some villages on this ac¬ 
count. The huntsmen expect very anxiously the 
first snowfall, as they hope that thereby they 
will be able better to scent the beasts, and, on 
the other hand, that for want of food the brutes 
would be driven out of their haunts. A singu¬ 
lar view was exhibited to the hunters and gen¬ 
darmes, as also, perhaps, to the beasts, when, on 
Oct. 11, at 11 o’clock in the forenoon, the Lieu¬ 
tenant Eisner was flying in a military aeroplane 
over the Stubalpe. From his apparatus, that in 
three hours’ time bore him from Vienna to Gorz 
at a height of 3000 m., he was able to observe 
distinctly the chase. 
A police dog of Vienna, the far-famed 
“Daisy,” was brought to the Styrian mountains 
to track the beasts. But it was soon discovered 
that the dog, like all domestic animals, was afraid 
of the great beasts of prey. Therefore Baron 
Bronsart de Sihellendorf, an old African travel¬ 
er and celebrated lion hunter, tried to accustom 
police dogs to lions. The experiment, made in 
Munich, in regard to young lions, proved fairly 
well, and the indefatigable hunter entertains good 
hopes, soon to find the mysterious beasts with his 
police dogs. •-■ 
District Court Wyandotte County 
Kansas City, Kan., Nov. 10.— Editor Forest 
and Stream. Enclosed find my check for $3.00 
in payment of sub. for one year. You have made 
your publication the best exposition of Archery 
“dope” ever given to as fine a collection of 
“cranks” as exist in the U. S., and with your 
aid, I believe, Archery will spread into hitherto 
barren fields. 
Fred. T. Leport, 
