Western field . mers over whose lands we hunt. In many respects prairie chickens in Man-itoba are ideal hunting. In no other kind ofhunting is ones dog so continually in sight,no matter how wide-ranging he may be; andit is impossible for him to flush withoutyour knowledge, as the birds always showplainly against the sky. This tends tokeep the dog always perfectly honest in hiswork, and once stanch he must always so re-main, it being impossible for him to getout of sight and run riot for his own amuse-ment. Then, too, the ease with which one maydrive to the game, and the certainty withwhich one
Western field . mers over whose lands we hunt. In many respects prairie chickens in Man-itoba are ideal hunting. In no other kind ofhunting is ones dog so continually in sight,no matter how wide-ranging he may be; andit is impossible for him to flush withoutyour knowledge, as the birds always showplainly against the sky. This tends tokeep the dog always perfectly honest in hiswork, and once stanch he must always so re-main, it being impossible for him to getout of sight and run riot for his own amuse-ment. Then, too, the ease with which one maydrive to the game, and the certainty withwhich one may count on a fair bag, are at-tractions of no small moment to many whohave tramped our hills and brush to returnhome tired and empty-handed. Should you, however, come to the conclu-sion that they are too easy a mark, justtry a side-shot at one after he has attainedfull headway, and the chances are fair that,as you watch his fast retreating form, youwill be heard to mutter, I never wouldhave thought it of OUR OWN GLORIOUS MX. SHASTA. LEGACIES. THE azure overhanging sky is mine;The soft, elusive odor of the pine;The robins morning song, sounding so sweet;The wild flowers that caress my lingering feet. I own the silver moonbeams on the lake;The summer song the wind-wooed pine trees make;The crickets lay, from sun-dried meadow grass;The cool night breezes that by mountains pass. To me belongs the babbling of the brook,The mossy stone within the shady Natures store these things belong to all—To prince and beggar—men both great and small, —Tom Veitch. i^AMP TALES M/ rMMJMSHAlLL
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectsports, bookyear1902
