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Partridge in Italy. 
Shooting Brown 
Tue brown partridge of Italy, Briss’ Perdix 
rubra, is known in Central Italy as ‘“‘starna.” 
[It is one of the birds that afferds the best sport 
in certain localities, and although never very 
plentiful, it is found in sufficient quantities to 
insure a fairly good bag to the experienced 
hunter Its range extends from the Alps to 
Sicily and it inhabits all but the highest alti- 
tudes. 1 have found it only a few miles out of 
Rome, almost on the sea level, and also in the 
high plateaus of the Appennines. It is in sum- 
mer that it climbs to the peaks, and as soon 
as the first snows cover the mountains moves 
down to the more temperate zone 
The brown partridge is a beautiful bird, sec- 
ond only to the gray in magnificence of plumage. 
It is of a rich brown tint, which varies in shade 
from very dark to almost brick red. The wings 
are streaked in silvery white and the grayish 
breast is tattooed with black and brown mark- 
ings. It is a robust and handsome bird, too, 
with sturdy legs that carry it along the ground 
at great speed, and wings of iron that make it 
1 very strong flyer. It is really a wonder, when 
the plumpness of the body and the small size 
of the wings are taken into consideration, that 
it can breast the grades at the pace it does. 
The open season for hunting the partridge is 

from Aug. 15 to Dec. 3 It used to be Aug 
1, but the young were found to be not quite 
grown at this time, so the change was made to 
prevent the slaughter of birds unable to protect 
themselves by flight. 
Considering the number of sportsmen that 
hunt persistently throughout the season, it is 
surprising that even a specimen is left; yet the 
supply does not diminish sensibly 
One of the reasons for this is probably that 
many of the places the partridge prefers art 
almost inaccessible. The railroad does not go 
within twenty or thirty miles of them, and_ the 
trouble and discomfort incurred in covering such 
distances across the mountains prevent all but 

the most enthusiastic from visiting them 
On flat country partridges take to the wheat 
stubble and are shot over dogs. They are gen- 
erally found in coveys, and unless one succeeds 
in scattering them, very poor sport is had 
After the first shot they become very wild and 
up beyond range. In the mountains they 
to the stubbles at night, but in daytime they 
favor the long narrow terraces which are gen- 
get 
fex@) 

erally covered with thick brush. Here they are 
often hunted with beaters The terraces are 
seldom wider than forty or fifty yards, and three 
men in a row, two beaters and the sportsman, 
are not likely to pass a covey without flush- 
ing it. Still there are many and I among them, 
who consider the dog’s work one of the chief 
delights of shooting, and will not go without 
them. 
The peasants and pot-hunters have a 
way of slaughtering the birds which, though 
forbidden by law, is practiced frequently. They 
wait for the first fall of snow and then take 
vemselyes to some stubble where a covey 1 
known to feed. Here they clear away the snow 
from a circle eight or ten yards in diameter and 
yread ashes over the cleared surface. If the 
snow is deep the ashes are spread over it so as 
to cover an area of the same size. At sunset 
a lantern with a dark back is set down near the 
clearing so to illuminate it, and the gunner 
crouches about twenty yards away behind it 
and imitates the peculiar chuckle of the bird. 
He seldom has long to wait. One by one or 
in small groups the partridge come in, alighting 
in the ashes in which they love to frolic, with 
chests to the ground and wings fluttering. With 
the aid of the lantern the man sees them plainly 
and he waits until they are grouped. Then he 
blazes both barrels into their midst. A twelve 
brutal 
1S 
P 
as 

ore, not choke, will often spread enough to get 
walf a dozen birds for the two shots, and as 
they are worth from three to four liras a pair 
in Rome it is profitable business. These men 
know the habits and location of the birds almost 

is well as the shepherds who snare them, and 
when the game wardens, the “gendarmi,”’ are 
not very active, the section is soon cleaned out 
lowever, some parts of the Abruzzi are well 
stocked, and in one or two private preserves 
which [ have seen the birds multiply quite 
rapidly. 
During the summer of 1905 business took me 
to Rome, and the-only social occupation of the 
unfortunates that an unkind fate kept in town 
was to gather at Piazza Colonna in the even- 
ing, to listen to the music and exchange and bits 
that from mountain and 

g ecaine 
of eassip 
S€da- 

RESTING AFTER A HARD CLIMB. 
Phe Marchese Giuseppe Cavalletti and his Italian 
Pointers 
shore. One evening to my surprise I saw ad- 
vancing toward me, head and shoulders above 
his neighbors, the Marquis Giuseppe Cavalletti, 
the Beau Brummel of Roman sportsmen [t 
seemed strange that he should not be away. 
“Welcome back, Monsieur l’Americain,” he said, 
reaching out to shake hands; “the meeting is 
doubly welcome.” 
“In the sense of our both being delighted 2” 

“I hope so. But this is a case where it is I 
hat am doubly delighted You know that the 
shooting opens the day after to-morrow. T’ve 
een looking all over for a congenial spirit to 
-Oo up to Celano after a few starna with me, and 
‘m going to press you into service.” 
I needed no urging. My trips with this peer- 
ess sportsman had always been of the most en- 
ioyable, and I knew I could use my two pointers, 
it and Fido, which I had given to a friend’ on 
eaving Italy with the condition that I might 
take them out if I returned. Thus the matter 
was settled in a short talk. and the next after. 
noon saw us get off at the little station of Celano 


where a boy of seventeen met us. The mart 
had telegraphed for him and the station aj 
had sent a man to get him, the ten mile and{! 
turn trip to his hut costing us the enornN 
sum of twenty cents. But then, a man’s t 
tor a day is only thirty up there. i 



Menico, our guide, was a slight, wiry | fl 
chap, whose dark good looks were emphasti 
yy the picturesque costume of the shepherd wii 
1e wore jauntily. Cavalletti told me that he 
one of the worst offenders against game le 
but that he was the only one also who ci 
ake a stranger where birds were to be foundh 
1e employed him. i 
On talking matters over we discovered 
from Celano to the shooting grounds was a ji 
nile trip over dangerous roads, and to go shi 
ing precipices in the darkness of early m« 
ing, perched on top of one of those high-wheil 
affairs that they call “char-a-bancs,” the ¢ 
vehicle of the neighborhood, was not to 
liking. Menico then said we might start at ci 

ind sleep at his hut which was only half a 11) 
from the grounds, and this plan we adopted 
The minute we saw the hut we were sob 
It was a tent-shaped affair thatched in canes, yll 
a small door at one end and a miniature vii 
dow at the other. There was no ventilation, | 
air inside was foul, and vermin overran | 
place. We tried to sleep outside, but the nil 
air in that altitude was too sharp and we wil 
driven in half frozen. At dawn we set out. |@ 
As we took the road I told Menico that 2 
should have one lira for every partridge we sjli 
in addition to the two liras a day we 
promised him, and with visions of a small 4) 
tune in sight he immediately took in hand |} 
directing of the hunt. 
“There are only two coveys that we can re] 
now,” he said, “if we want to follow them | 
properly; but I know exactly what they will J 
and you will get at least three shots at es a 
so that if you both shoot straight you ought 
have over twenty birds by evening, even if 
don’t find any more, which we will.” 
‘he half mile turned out to be nearer (p 
and a half, but we finally reached the spot <3 
turned out of the rough road into the stubl|y 
A rising knoll was before us and Menico t\h 
all the dogs but Bobby, the steadiest of | 
quartet, i 
“The birds may be a bit wild,’ he said, “ely 
we cannot possibly overrun them, so it is bif 
to be prudent.” 
In the highest corner of the field we foul} 
them, and the dog must have been right on j\p 
of them, for his body quivered and_ his e| | 
started from their sockets when he came tc 
sudden point. ti 
“You take the first,” murmured the marq|y 
as we walked in. i 
They rose in a body with a whirr that ws 
like the sound of distant thunder and a screa 1 
ing and cackling that was deafening. Thi 
must have been fifty where I expected a dozli 
or so, and I was so flustered that I fired bch 
barrels into the bunch, hardly aiming, and cl; 
tainly not picking any particular bird. Oh; 
one fell. Then my companion’s gun spoke alt 
at each shot a bird toppled over. 
“T’ve got the old ones,’ he remarked calm]; 
“the others ought to spread now.’ What ¢| 
viable coolness! Ig 
Meanwhile Menico stood watching the ful; 
tives, his hand shading his eyes and_ his lia 
throwing after them curses so rich in varl¢ p 
and expression that they stunned me. |] 
“Why, what the matter?’ I asked whl, 
gave me a chance. } 
“Matter! May accidents befall them. Did A 
you see? Both the confounded coveys were t 
gether, and goodness knows what they'll do, ne 
that they are combined.” \( 
It was indeed annoying, but uncertainty is t 


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