They saw a number of birds flitting
about, but did not attempt to bring any down.
"If we want any big game we must keep quiet," said Dave, and after that
they moved along without speaking, and with their eyes and ears on the
alert for the first sign of something worth shooting.
Presently Dave held up his hand and all came to a halt. Not far away
could be heard a curious drumming sound.
"What's that?" whispered Phil.
"Sounds like grouse," answered Dave. "They drum like that sometimes.
They must be over in the trees yonder. Let us dismount and see."
The others were willing, and leaving their horses tied to the trees, the
three boys crept forward to the spot from which the drumming proceeded.
They came up abreast, and soon all caught sight of a number of grouse of
the sharp-tailed variety, huddled in a little opening among the bushes.
"Get ready and fire when I give the word," whispered Dave, and a few
seconds later all three of the chums blazed away simultaneously. There
was a fluttering and more drumming, and several grouse thrashed the
ground.
"Hurrah! we've got four!" cried Roger, rushing forward.
"And this one makes five!" said Phil, and dispatched one that was
fluttering around. Then Dave killed a sixth, and by that time the rest
of the game was out of sight.
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