. American game-bird shooting . ough the mellow haze of Indian summer,or, as sometimes heard, in the noon of night, in thedepths of the forest primeval? Few pictures hangmore bright in the inner chamber of the sportsmanssoul than the broad fanlike tail spread along his pathas he treads the trail of the deer, or its dark bandsshining on the carpet of checkered leaves or sweepingover the mossy carpet of wintergreen or vanishing inthe heavy green of the laurel brake. Not even the majestic woodcock, with his solemndignity; not bobwhite, with his sweet, graceful waysand artless beauty; not the bril
. American game-bird shooting . ough the mellow haze of Indian summer,or, as sometimes heard, in the noon of night, in thedepths of the forest primeval? Few pictures hangmore bright in the inner chamber of the sportsmanssoul than the broad fanlike tail spread along his pathas he treads the trail of the deer, or its dark bandsshining on the carpet of checkered leaves or sweepingover the mossy carpet of wintergreen or vanishing inthe heavy green of the laurel brake. Not even the majestic woodcock, with his solemndignity; not bobwhite, with his sweet, graceful waysand artless beauty; not the brilliant but erratic littlegenius of the boggy meadow; not the noble turkey,with his beamy bronze and bearded breast, can raisesuch tender memories as this grouse. For all thesemust be sought, and often sought in vain, in theirnative haunts. But the ruffed grouse is a more famil-iar spirit, and many a time plays across the sports-mans path when wandering over the sapling-clad slopewhere the autumn woodcock lies in the full bloom t. SHOOTING THE WOODS GROUSE 361 of life and fatness, or when following bobwhitethrough the hazel thicket, or when roaming from pondto pond in search of ducks among the vine-clad arborsof the river bottom. And often the hunter of the deersees him strut before him as he sits resting on a fallenlog, and often, when on the trail of the deer in winter,sees him shake the snow from his lightning wings, as,bursting from its cover, the bird goes whizzing awayamid the snow-draped trees. Few of those who most love this noble bird haveever seen him in the simplicity of youth, before hehas left his mothers side and gone forth to roam alonethe spangled shades of the rugged mountain side orthe somber shrubbery of the tangled glen. For hishearthstone is too often in the dense mass of sum-mers wealth, and few are the eyes that can followhim into the deep, dark brake or into the shaggy cov-ering of the mountains breast, until autumns frostshave tattered their gay banners a
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjecthunting, bookyear1910
