Aug. 3, 1912 
FOREST AND STREAM 
139 
grouse, or an old one either, for that matter, 
sitting in a leafy fir tree. They have a provok¬ 
ing trick of alighting near the outer end of a 
branch, then walking along the branch until they 
are near the body of the tree, where they 
crouch down and blend so perfectly with the 
surroundings that it requires a sharp eye to de¬ 
tect them. The hunter walks around the tree, 
peering with all his eyes into the foliage with¬ 
out being able to locate his game. After he has 
strained his vision until it is about to crack and 
craned a “crick” in his neck, the bird waits 
until he is on the opposite side, then hurtles out 
of the tree cackling in derision. 
Grouse hunting requires an especially 
trained dog. The dog trained for quail or 
pinnated grouse will prove useless. The best 
dog for grouse hunting is a cross between a 
cocker and Gordon setter, one of those busy, 
industrious little chaps that will go hurrying 
from place to place, never quiet for an instant. 
When he strikes the scent he should follow it 
with a rush and flush the game without setting. 
In the first place, if he should come to a stand 
you would be unable to see him in the brush 
and in the next the grouse would quietly vacate 
that immediate vicinity, using their strong legs 
Simplicity 
By E. T. 
OU can talk all you want to,” said the 
novice, as leaned back in his chair, “but 
that boat of Smith’s is just about my size. 
“For a sensible man who does not want any 
flim-fiam-flap-doodle and wants to get anywhere 
within twenty-four hours of the time he steps 
aboard, she's got everything else in the harbor 
beat a mile. All Smith has to do is just yank 
the tarpaulin off the engine, turn on his gasolene, 
throw on the switch, give the wheel a yank, and 
he’s off. 
“It makes me tired to see the way most of 
the fellows down at the club spend from one to 
one and a half hours getting things ready be¬ 
fore they start out. They let down the spray 
hood, take off the cockpit cover, get out the tool 
bag, arrange the cushions, get the flags out of 
the locker and stick ’em up, and perform forty- 
seven other stunts before they let go the moor¬ 
ing, and then it’s the same old job over in a 
contrarywise method before they can quit the 
boat and go home to a cold dinner at night. 
“Half of you fellows that think you’re en¬ 
joying yourselves are spending all your time 
polishing up brass work and paying for motor 
accessories, electric lights, speed counters, volta¬ 
meters and 4/2 variety of junk that has to be 
taken care of. Give me Smith’s boat every time.” 
And then he lowered the tide in a long glass 
that had ice and something else in it. 
During the fore part of the tirade the skip¬ 
per of the Betsy Jane had looked with mild 
amusement at his friend as he condemned every 
other type of boat but Smith’s, but as he con¬ 
tinued, he began to take more and more interest. 
When the novice had finally subsided, the skipper 
arose and took the floor. 
“It’s all right for you theorists, who are just 
able to distinguish between a fly-wheel and a 
to get away on. A healthy grouse can run, 
under proper stimulus, just a few shades faster 
than a scared rabbit. 
The nest of a sooty grouse is of sufficient 
rarity that no apology need be made for pre¬ 
senting a photograph of one. Naturally I have 
found many of their nests in the old days, but 
the one presented happened to be the last, and 
the only one found when I happened to have a 
camera along. I was seeking far more im¬ 
portant things, gold in fact, when I chanced 
upon this nest. It was in the Bitter Root Moun¬ 
tains in Shoshone county, Idaho, and near the 
summit of the range. I had climbed up out of 
a narrow steep canon and was crossing a small 
plateau, picking my way through the “devil 
club,” when Mrs. Dendragapus shot right out 
from beneath my feet. The next step would 
have landed me upon her. To clear away the 
brush, set the camera and make the exposure 
was the work of only a few minutes, and as I 
walked away the bird came creeping back and 
settled upon her eggs. I tried to photograph 
her, but she would have none of my attentions. 
For fear the eggs would get chilled (it was early 
spring and the ground damp and cold), I de¬ 
sisted and went my way. 
vs. Utility 
KEYSER 
carburetor, to sit down here on the club veranda 
and tell a man, who has accumulated an outfit, 
that he’s seventeen varieties of assorted imbecile. 
You make me think of the back to nature 
camper, who calls every man who uses a tent 
a ‘softy’ and proceeds to tell how beautiful it 
is to sleep in the open air. 
“What you and the back to nature, one-cent- 
a-word writer never seem to grasp is the fact 
that almost anything will go in fair weather, but 
that the man who wants tO' be happy and pro¬ 
vide against rain and accidents and be comfort¬ 
able afloat in almost any circumstances must put 
a slight dent in his pocket book to do so. 
“It’s all right for you to climb aboard 
Smiths’ boat on a bright, beautiful, June day 
when the sun is shining two minutes and going 
under a cloud every four or five, but how would 
you like to sit down on one of these nice, hard 
board locker seats and remain glued there for 
eight and a half hours with a hot sun beating 
down on the back of your neck, and how would 
you feel if you took your family, either actual 
or prospective, all dressed up in its nice, sweet 
yachting clothes with a neat little parasol that 
measures two and a half inches in diameter and 
cost $14 an inch, and experienced a nice, fat, 
juicy downpour just about the time you struck 
the middle of the sound, and nothing but an oil- 
soaked tarpaulin to wrap around the lady? You’d 
stand a swell chance for the return of the en¬ 
gagement ring or divorce proceedings, wouldn't 
you? 
“And some day, when you were caught in a 
tight corner, and you wanted to sit plumb still 
for about forty-five to fifty seconds, and yet be 
able to pick up and wade along when the neces¬ 
sity occurred, you’d find you couldn’t do it with¬ 
out a reversible propeller or reverse gear. 
“Oh, yes! Simplicity is fine! It’s the 
greatest thing that ever came down the gang 
way, but it has its drawbacks. One of the 
drawbacks of simplicity is illustrated by the man 
who takes it for granted that because he has 
used his electric apparatus for fourteen hours 
running, it’s in good condition. 
“Maybe it is, but if it is not, he won’t know 
it until the engine stops and he gives up five or 
six hard-earned iron men to some pirates who 
offer to tow him in for all the spare cash he has 
aboard. Ammeters that would cost him $1.25 
would have put him wise to the sad state of 
affairs before he cast off his moorings. 
“Do you suppose for two seconds, my young 
and unsophisticated friend, that people just like 
to sit around and write to the dealers to send 
them, C. O. D., boat accessories and such luxu¬ 
ries? Each and every bit of apparatus that you 
find aboard a motor boat is there because the 
man who owns that boat knows it is a good 
thing to have, and placing his time, comfort and 
safety up against the cost and trouble spent in 
taking care of it, the boat owner of experience 
knows that he’s way ahead of the game. If 
somebody could arouse Robin Hood and show 
him a sample line of shotguns, he, in his inno¬ 
cence, would be just as likely to pick out a 
single barrel muzzleloader as an automatic, 
as you in your innocence, who think all 
there is in boating is to jump aboard and start 
up the engine, may go wrong on simplicity dur¬ 
ing your first year. But you'll see things differ¬ 
ently after you’ve been soaked once, scorched 
twice, paid for two or three tows and gone home 
feeling as if you had fallen out of a three-story 
window because you sat four and a half hours 
on an uncomfortable seat. 
“This isn’t to say that if you and three or 
four other hardened citizens wanted to go'out 
for a day, you can't stand it in a boat such as 
you’re describing, but the boat to-day has grown 
to be a family matter, and it wouldn’t be half as 
popular among the girls, or among the men, 
either, if every time one took a lady out in it, 
she took a chance on getting soaked or roasted, 
and it was a dead sure 100 to 1 bet that she’d 
be covered with engine grease and soaked with 
the bilge water thrown by the playful fly-wheel.” 
Yearning for Old-Time Thrillers. 
Chicago, Ill., July 6. —Editor Forest and 
Stream: I presume it is contrary to the ethics 
of standard journals to republish articles which 
have once appeared in their columns, but I am 
sure that many of your subscribers would de¬ 
light in reading those thrilling accounts which 
appeared in your columns of the experience of 
Colonel Pickett killing grizzly bears with his 
Sharp’s .45-120-275 Express, or Ira Dodge in 
his disastrous battle with three grizzlies in the 
Big Hole country, Wyoming. 
There are many other writers and articles 
that might be mentioned, but in this day when 
we compare the results obtained by our high- 
power rifles, it is also interesting to note what 
was accomplished by the best types of hunters 
using the best weapons of a time rapidly pass¬ 
ing away. In making this request there is no 
criticism of the articles that appear from time 
to time, but simply a desire that present day 
readers may enjoy that which we of the Old 
Guard so greatly appreciated a few years ago. 
B. A. Dumser. 
