The gloriousness of late-season grouse

After the flurry and fanfare of the Twelfth, the grouse become more independent and quicker to fly; Patrick Laurie rises to our challenge

- Patrick Laurie

Everybody knows about the Glorious Twelfth. The very words seem to conjure up whimsical images of pointers in the purple heather; sunshine, gunpowder smoke and bottles of beer left to cool for lunch in some pretty beck or burn.

The Twelfth is famous as the opening of the grouse shooting season, but the sport often seems to fall quiet after the first few enthusiastic weeks. As September approaches, partridges start to beckon on the low ground. It’s not long until pheasants come powering in to grab our attention and grouse become rather more obscure. By the time that the heather flowers have wilted and the hill has turned red with failing grass, grouse have become something rather different.

Balance

Early-season days are well suited to walked-up shooting. The Glorious Twelfth finds grouse in a perfect balance between strength and caution. They are fit and ready on the wing, but they still prefer to hide from guns and dogs as if they were stripling poults. The adults will stand guard and advise their youngsters to keep still, which means you can walk right into a covey before they flush.

There is no greater sporting spectacle than the sudden eruption of grouse all around you in a riot of feathers and cackling, and a good day in August will create a sequence of these opportunities until your nerves are shredded and you can’t do anything but smile.