A DANGEROUS NEIGHBOR The hunt became more and more profitable and enjoyable, as spring animated everything.

In the morning at the break of day the forest was full of voices, strange and undiscernible to the inhabitant of the town.
There the heathcock clucked and sang his song of love, as he sat on the top branches of the cedar and admired the grey hen scratching in the fallen leaves below.

It was very easy to approach this full-feathered Caruso and with a shot to bring him down from his more poetic to his more utilitarian duties.

His going out was an euthanasia, for he was in love and heard nothing.

Out in the clearing the blackcocks with their wide-spread spotted tails were fighting, while the hens strutting near, craning and chattering, probably some gossip about their fighting swains, watched and were delighted with them.