t was the last hour of work on a Friday afternoon, and the sky was clear and the temperature falling. Toward the end of September and early October one never knows what Mother Nature will give you. You can only pray for weather like this and hope the lord has pity on you. The last two weekends had been hot and humid, miserable weather for bird hunting. Grouse season had started then, though no self-respecting fantail chaser would call them that. In Wisconsin he's known as pa'tridge, and we the faithful members of the club as is our habit, met in northern Wisconsin to pay homage to this challenging bird of the forests. And each weekend we had prayed for suitable weather and now it looked as if we would be rewarded.

The desire to chase this bird builds slowly over the course of spring, then summer. Little things trip the senses which in turn unleash the memories of past hunts. But by the end of summer when the first cool nights send a shiver down your back, it takes all the will a pa'tridge man has to concentrate on the task at hand.