250 THE POACHERS. 



ignited cigars and tobacco, momentarily exposing, and deeply co- 

 louring our faces, crack went a gun within twenty yards of where 

 we stood, and the howl of a dog immediately followed, joined by 

 the harsh croak of a raven that had roosted on a lofty thorn. In 

 another moment Woodcock's favourite greyhound came limping up, 

 with his fore-paw bleeding. Our enemies were near upon us, when 

 Woodcock sprang with the fierceness of a fury at the man who had 

 shot his dog, and was again preparing to reload his piece. "Villain," 

 said he, " I would sooner you had shot me then my poor dog." In 

 his anger he had rushed upon the keeper, and borne him to the 

 earth ; then seizing the muzzle of the gun, he struck the stock 

 against a tree ; and while he retained the barrel in his hand, the butt 

 and lock flew in every direction. 



Mike had seized two of the foremost, and held them by the 

 neckerchief at arm's length. 



The stranger had dexterously parried a blow from a bludgeon, 

 and floored the aggressor ; another arm was uplifted to strike, when 

 he drew out a pistol, and pointing it at his opponents, exclaimed, 

 " The first that attempts to strike another blow I will send to his 

 long reckoning ;" and click went the pistol on full cock, ready for 

 the deed. 



As for myself and Smith, we had not entered the action, for just 

 at the moment when we were springing to the attack, the click of 

 the pistol acted like a talisman upon our foes, and checked further 

 advance. 



"Loose your hold, Mike," said the stranger; " I hope you don't 

 intend throttling the men." 



Mike obeyed, but not until he had tried what kind of music their 

 heads would produce by being jowled together. 



Woodcock was yet kneeling upon the keeper, and shaking him at 

 times, like a bull-dog, unwilling to let his enemy rise. " You rascal, 

 to shoot my dog." (Another shake.) " What harm had he done ?" 



" Come, Woodcock," said I, " let the man arise, your dog is not 

 much hurt ; only a small shot or two in his fore-foot : beside you've 

 broken the keeper's gun." 



" Yes," said the young keeper, in a sorrowful tone, " that gun my 

 father bore on his shoulder for fifteen years ; and now, like him, it's 

 no more." 



"What," said Woodcock, is old Ben dead ; and are you his son ?" 



" He is," answered the young man, rubbing his shoulder, " and 

 I'm his son." 



" Then, here's my hand," said Woodcock, " and I'm sorry we 

 fell out. Poor old Ben ! many a glass have we had together ; many 

 a hare have I given him, when he could not shoot them himself; 

 many a drop of gin have we had together upon these scroggs ; for 

 I seldom came without something i' th' bottle God bless him ! he 

 would't injure a fly poor old Ben !" And the cuff of his ragged 

 jacket was uplifted, to dash away a tear. 



" Come," said the stranger, " I presume we are all prisoners ; 

 and, upon condition that no more force is attempted, we are willing 

 to appear before Squire Beckett." 



