Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-11-30
Tourguenef's Last
Sketch.

versts the steppe extended in every direc-
tion. No forest, no stream could be found in
the neighbor1nG country; only shallow
ravines covered by brushwood and looking
like immense green snakes, here and there
made their way through the otherwise I'M
broken surface of the plains. Tiny rivulets
flowed at the bottom of these ravines: in
places to which well beaten foot-paths
! 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.
Man and beasts alike need fresh, pure water.
My father was passionately fond of hunt
ing. Every moment he could spare from his
work-provided the weather was fne-would
see him take down his rifle, strap his pouch
about his waist, whistle for his old Edog Tresor.
and start to hunt quail or partridge. Hare
he thought little OF; fit only, he would say
with an air of contempt, to make 2 hunter
run. These and snipes which came in the
autumn were all the game found in the
neighborhood.
But quails and cartridges We're quite nu-
Inerous, especially the latter. In following
the banks of the ravines you would encounter
at every step little hollows in the dry ground
where they love to squat. Old Tresor would
then come to q sudden stop, his tail wagging
furiously and his forehead gathering in
wrinkles, while my father, pale with excite
ment would cautiously raise the hammer of
| his gun.
At times, to my great joy, would be per-
nnitted to accompany him. I used to tuck
the legs OF my trousers into the tops of my
boots, hang my little flask over my shoul-
ders, and, SO equipped, would imagine myself
a true sportsman. Though perspiration might
cover me from head to foot, and gravel and
dust enter my shoes, never felt the least
fatigued, and never in a single instance al
lowed myself to drop behind. At each re-
port of the gun, and as soon as the bird fell,
1 bounded forward with a joyous shout-I
felt SO happyl The wounded quail might
struggle, flap its wings, sometimes on the
! ground, at other times in Tresor's mouth, its
blood fowl only became enthusiastic; I
never felt the least sentiment of pity!
| What wouldn't have given to be able to
fire gun myself to kill quails and partridges
with my own hand! But my father had re-
| peatedly explained to me that was not to
| have gun until l had reached the age of II,
and that then I was to have a single barrelled
gun, and that 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
resembling the tinkling Of little bells
| looked upon them as nyfuture spoil. and
| aimed at them with a stick Which 1 carried
! over my shoulder like gun. It is very easy
| to get close to them, when they hover With
| quivering wings perhaps five or six feet above
the ground, before suddenly plungins lao
the grass
Sometimes, in the distance, On stubble is,ls
or the green prairie, bu5tards coai3 b. ,ecl.
''Ah!" would sigh; ''to Kill Big bird
| like that, and then die'
| Ipointed them out TO my father with my
finger, bit he would invariably answer that
the bustard was a very shy bird which
would not permit anybody to get near it.
Once, however, he attempted to steal upon q
solitary bustard, thinking thai it had been
wounded perhaps; and was tagging behind
the rest OF the flock. He ordered Tresor to
keep behind him, and babe me not STIR
Charging his gun with buclshot he turned to
the dog and exclaimed il low voice:
"Back, back Then covering as
low as possible he advanced cautiously
upon the bustard Tresor would not crouch
down, but assumed a gait something like that
"a Cd Dstts.l --cetGi ISlSODJ NeSSlb5 ms I'LL
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 i]ustard wouldn't allow us
to get within three hundred yards; it started
on a run frstt, then Tapping its wings few
away Tresor made bound forward and
started Mt it. 1 too looked at it-with such
disappointed heart Couldn't it have stayed
1f+fla how,
killed the bird.
One day l started with my father to go
hunting. II was on the eve of st. Peters
day At that season of the year the young
/ partidges are still very small, and my father
would not shoot any. He therefore entered a
patch OF oak trees situated on the edge OF a
re Held, where you were always sure to find
quail As it was rather difficult to cut the
grass IN this piece Of wood u had been allowed
TO grow freely and had attained g great
height. 8IyTiads of flowers, vetch clover
hare-bell, noIse-ear and sweet-wiiiam throve
there in abundance. Whenever I came to
this spot with my sister or the maid servant
1 carried home whole arnlfuls; but when in
the company OF my father did not tbiul. OF
picking flowers. 1 considered that occupa-
ton uubecoming sportsman.
Suddenly Tresor came toa stop Ny father
made signal to me to be cautious. Right
in front Of Tresor a hen quail rose and aew
of. But she few III a strange manner, turn
ing and tumbling over and over again in the
air, and then falling TO the ground as If she
had been wounded. Tresor made for her as
fast as possible-a thing he never did when
the bird flew in its usual manner.
My father could not take aim for fear Of
hitting the dog. Presently Tresor made n
sudden DASH aud, before we knew it, he had
seized the quail, and brought her to my
father. NY father took the bird from him
and laid it on its back on the palm Of his
hand. ran UP to him.
whats the matters" I cried. as she
wounded!n
No" replied my father; .'she must, how
ever, have her nest with her little ones cioseby
She acted as i she were wounded 50 that the
dog might think he could catch her easily
''Why did she do soF'
SIN order to divert the dogs attention
from her little ones: after watch, il she had
succeeded, she would have do7yn away. But
this time she missed her little game, and
Tresor has caught herr
''Then size IS not hitl' Inquired again.
''No-but she won't liye-Tresor must
have injured her with his teeth
stepped nearer to have u Better look at
the quail. She rested Tnotioaless on the palm
Of my fathers hand; her head was dropping
and her black eyelooked at ne Sideways. An
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