Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1883-11-23
Turgueneff's Last Sketch.

: ! was about ten years of age when
what am about to relate occurred.
It was summer time. In those days I
lived with my father on farm inSouth.
ern Russia. Around US, for distance OF
many versts, the steppe extended in ev-
cry direction. No forest, no stream
could be found in the neighboring coun-
try; only shallow ravines, covered by
brushwood and looking like immense
green snakes, here and there made their
way through the otherwise, unbroken
surface of the plains. Tiny rivulets
flowed at the bottom of these ravines;
inplaces to which wellbeaten footpaths
generally led you could see, very near
the top of the bank, small springs OF
limpid water, like tears, issue from the
ground, and on their edges. in the damp
clay, the tracks Of numberless birds and
other small animals. Men and beasts,
alike, need fresh, pure water.
My father was pass:onately fond Of
hunting. Every moment he could spare
from his work-provided the weather
was fne-would see him take down his
rife, strap his pouch about his waist,
whistle for his old dog Tresor and start to
hunt quail or partridge. Hare he thought
an air OF contempt, to make a hunter
run. These and snipe were all the
game found in the neighborhood.
But Quails and partridges were quite
numerous-especiaily the latter. In
following the banks Of the rsvine, you
would encounter at every step little ho.~
lows in the dry ground, where they
love to squat. Old Tresor would then
come to sudden stop, his tail waggine
furiously and his forehead gathered in
wrinkles, while my father, pale with OK
element, would cautiouly raise the
hammer of his gun.
At times, to my great Joy, I would be
permitted to accom- pany him | used to
tuck the legs of my trousers into the
tops of my boots, hang my little flask
over my shoulders, and, SO equipped,
would imagine myself true sportsman.
Though persplralion might cover me
from head to foot and gravel and dust
enter nv shoes, never felt the least
fatigued and never IN a single instance
allowed myself. to drop behind. At
each reportaof the gun and soon as the
GUS shout felt SO happy! The wounded
quail might struggle, Zap it's wings,
sometimes Oh the ground, at other times
in Tresors mouth, its blood fowl
only became enthusiastic; [ never felt
the least sentiment of pity!
What wouldn't l give to be able. to
fire gun myself to kill Qua;ls and pat
ridges with my own hand! but my father
had repeatedly explained to me that
was not to have gun until | reached
the age Of twelve, and that then | was to
have q sngIe-barrelrd gun, and that I
would be allowed to shoot larks only.
Large numbers Of these were found near
our house; on sunny DAYS you could see
them by the dozens in the clear sky
mounting higher, ever higher, with
chirps reese milling the tinkling of silver
bells.
I looked upon them as my future
spoil ana aimed at them with stick
I carried over nay shoulder like gun.
It is very easy to get close to them,
when they hover with qulvering wings
perhaps tive or six foot above the ground
before suddenly plungiug into the grass.
Sometimes in the distance, on stubble
fields Or green prairie, bustaris could be
seen. "Ah" I would sigh, ''to kill big
bird like that and die!"
[ pOin,ed them out to my father with
my finger, but be would invariably an
swer that the bustard was very shy
bind, which would not permit anybody
to get near it. Once however, he at
tempted to steal upon solitary bustard,
thinking that it had been wounded. per-
haps, and was tagging behind the rest OF
the flock. He ordered Tresor to keep
behind him, and babe me not to stir.
Charging his gun with buckshot he
turned to the dog and exclaimed in
low voice: "Back, back" Then cover
ing as low as possible be advanced eau
not crouch down, but assumed gait
something like that of bandy-legged
person, wagging hiS tail and holding one
OF his lips between his teeth. couldn't
keep still any longer, and followed my
father and Tresor. crawling carefully all
the way. But the bustard wouldn't al
How US to get within three hundred
yards; it started on run first, then,
Tapping its wings, few away. Tresor
made a bound forward and started at it,.
], too, looked at it-w,th such a disap-
pointed heart! Couldn't it lave stayed
just little longer? We should certainly
have killed the bird.
One day stat ted with my father,to
60 hunting. 1t was on the eve of st. Pc
ter's day. At that season of the year
the young patridges are still very small,
and my father would not shoot any. He,
therefore, entered patch of oak trees
situated on the edge of rye field,
where you were always sure to find a
quail. AS it was rather difficult to cut
the grass in this piece of wood it had
been allowed to grow freely, and had
~ ~
flowers. vetch, clover, hare bell, mouse
ear and sweet william, throve there in
abundance. Whenever, came to this
spot with my sister or maid-servant, J.
carried home whole arulfuls; but when in
company with my father did not think
of picking flowers. considered that
occupation unhecoming a sportsman. a
/ Suddenly Tresor came to q stop. My
father made signal to me to be eau
tious. Rightin front of Tressor hen
quail rose and flew off. But she flew III
| strange manner, turning and tumhling
over and over again in the air, ani then
falling to the ground as il she had been
wounded. Tresor made for her fast as
possible- thing he never did when the
! bird few ia its usual manner. 81
NV father could not take her for fear
of hitting the dog. Presently Tresor
made sudden dash, and before we /
knew it, he had seized the quail and
brought her to my father. Nv father
took the bird from him and laid 1t on its.
back on the palm OF his hand. = ran up
to him.
6 What,s the natter7', cried. Is she
wounde ~
b.. N 8, 9 replied my father she must
however, have her nest with her little
ones close by. she acted as if she were