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88 for a time, but a hen was soon heard cackling, and immediately the old capercailzie cock commenced playing; he went through the first part and did his gobble, but as soon as we moved a foot to get nearer, he flew to another tree, where he commenced his deceitful play anew.

"I thought as much," said Peter with some vexation. "Now he is at it again! It's no use whatever to stalk him; one might as well try to stalk the clouds. No, let us go more to the north; there are more birds thereabouts, and I dare say there is one amongst them anyhow, who dares open his beak, although they are all afraid of that beast there! I wish Old Nick had him."

"Do you know where the old fellow plays at sunrise?" I asked.

"Yes, of course I do," answered Peter; "he plays in a fir tree on a small knoll, just below here in the bog; but it is very difficult to get a shot at him, because the tree is so very high."

"We will go there," said I; "but since you think it advisable, we will first go a little to the north."

We walked for some distance in this direction, but we did not hear a single bird play. Peter wondered very much what could have become of the birds, and came finally to the conclusion that the fight had frightened them away, or given them such a scare that they dared not open their mouths.

Just as the day was breaking we heard a report of a gun north of Sandtjærn hill, where Peter told me the captain and he used to have bear-bait set. This place was not far away from his dairy on the mountains or from his home in Sognedale. Soon afterwards we heard another report, which, like its predecessor, Peter declared, came from the captain's gun. While we were crossing the bog, on our way to the fir tree Peter had spoken of, and whither he apparently went with little inclination, he broke out afresh in lamentations over the bad sport we had had, and kept on talking to himself in disjointed sentences, such as: "Only a waste of powder, — no, no, the captain is the right sort of man, he is, — he has got one, perhaps two, — that wasn't Ander's shot at all, — that good-for-nothing gun of his, — no, there is something like a report in the captain's."