This is one of my favorite photos from the Blizzard’s Huntmore archives,  a portrait of game bird, gun dog, and bird gun as memorable for what it does not show as for what it does.

First is the bird, better yet, THE bird, a ruffed grouse taken from the tangle of one of Eric Jacobs’ hard won mountain coverts, remote country draped in grapevines, bristling with cane briars, carpeted in rhododendron and ferns, topped with tulip poplar. There is a hint of Place in the background of this photo, a mere suggestion of the lung burning, leg-cramping, side-hilling hiking required to earn a tough chance at getting a ruffed grouse pointed, shot, and delivered to hand.  This is the country, and the game bird, that has shaped the breeding, training and working life of every Blizzard’s Huntmore dog to this day.

The photo of the weary setter, nosing her bird, does not show a Llewellin grouse savant named Awbonnies Bull, a legend in these mountains, as relentless and tough and bird savvy as his owner. The first litter sired by Bull gave Eric and Anna Jacobs Lord Tobyn Bondhu…a grand pedigree name that still didn’t do “His Lordship” justice.  Toby was as kindly and gentle a companion dog as anyone could want, one who transformed himself into a gritty hard-charger who loved to curl up on Anna's lap at the end of the day. Patiently, tirelessly, he worked his way out from under Bull’s shadow to become a credit to the Old Man: an absolutely superb grouse finder, a fail-safe retriever, and a joy to hunt.

Pictured in their stead is their legacy: Huntmore’s Bleu Spice – granddaughter of Bull, daughter of Toby, in some ways, perhaps the most stylish of the three, the personification of Llewellin elegance in her fast, bold, tenacious way of going to her birds.   She is the grande dame of the Blizzard’s Huntmore totem, much of the best of Bull and Toby, the gold standard against which all of our lady Llewellins are measured.

Backing bird and dog in this portrait is a game gun built for the purpose.  What the photo can’t show is one grouse hunter’s evolution in ability and taste.   An avid tennis player and blessed with exceptional eye/hand coordination, Eric Jacobs made himself a superb grouse shot the way the first sports who hunted the old American Native setters did - by shooting at grouse.  At first, that shooting catechism came courtesy of a lightweight Winchester Model 59, popularized by the New England writer and grouse fanatic Frank Woolner in his book Grouse and Grouse Hunting (Crown Publishers, 1970).   If Eric had cut a notch in that walnut stock for every grouse he took over the end of that fiberglass-wrapped barrel, he would have had to go looking for another piece of wood.  But as the years passed, Jacobs came to admire the easy carry, quick grace and between-the-hands dynamic of the better break action guns. 

A dealer named Bill Hanus advertised in all the bird dog magazines and conservation publications.  He imported Ugartechea, AyA, and Grulla shotguns and famously championed the 28- and 16 gauge models. Eric dreamed and schemed until he finally had the gun he had wanted for so very long – a model of Ugartechea Hanus marketed as “The Classic.”  Built on the .410/28 gauge frame, the little gun boasted a straight grip stock, 27” barrels, with chokes that measured .005 in the “open” right tube, .015 in the left – Winchester’s old “SK1/SK2” configuration. With premium loads, that little gun threw absolutely lethal patterns over a staunch Llewellin setter.

Every picture tells a story.  In this case, it’s worth far more than the proverbial “thousand words.” It’s the story of one man’s dedication to an ideal, not just in performance of dog and gun, but a sporting ethic, a love of wild things in some of the wildest coverts left east of the Mississippi…country where the grouse hunter’s Holy Trinity – bird, dog, and gun – can still be celebrated.