A DAY S WILD SPORT. 1 / i 



exultation as you bring him down -with a snap- 

 shot, having only caught a glimpse of him through 

 the evergreen boughs, as he endeavoured to escape 

 by a rapid flight at the opposite side of the tree. 



And then the woodcock-shooting in November 

 — I must take you back once more to my fa- 

 vourite Downs. With the first full moon during 

 that month, especially if the wind be easterly or 

 the weather calm, arrive flights of woodcocks, 

 which drop in the covers, and are dispersed among 

 the bushy valleys, and even over the heathery 

 summits of the hills. If it should happen to 

 be a propitious year for beech-mast — the great 

 attraction to pheasants on the Downs, as is the 

 acorn in the weald— you may procure partridges, 

 pheasants, hares, and rabbits in perhaps equal 

 proportions, with half a dozen woodcocks to crown 

 the bag. 



The extensive, undulating commons and heaths 

 dotted with broken patches of Scotch firs and 

 hollies on the ferruginous sand north of the 

 Downs, aflbrd — where the manorial rights are 

 enforced — still greater variety of sport. On this 

 wild ground, accompanied by my spaniels and an 

 old retriever, and attended only by one man, to 

 carry the game, I have enjoyed as good sport as 

 mortal need desire on this side of the Tweed. 

 Here is a rough sketch of a morning's work. 



