192 THE PARTRIDGE 



some does ; " as the old Gordon stands staunchly 

 on her game, with her almost hairless " flag '' out- 

 stretched, one almost hairless paw uphfted, and 

 hps and nostrils quivering with excitement, she 

 needs none of the silken beauty that adorned her 

 in her prime to increase my admiration. Steady ! 

 old lady ; the birds are not wild to-day ; I need 

 not hasten to your side. 



Moving leisurely towards Cora, I catch sight 

 of Random, my big Irish setter, standing 

 motionless away to my left. He has taken in the 

 situation at a glance, and is backing his com- 

 panion from a spot behind a wheat-stack. 

 Anxious for him to remain on his best behaviour 

 I raise my arm ; and at the signal he sinks 

 slowly to the earth and rests his head between 

 his paws. I go a few steps further, and with gun 

 in readiness stand behind the old Gordon. 

 She welcomes me with a single movement of 

 her tail, and tells me plainly, with one serious 

 look from her dark brown eyes, that business is 

 to the front ; then strikes an attitude shghtly 

 stiffer, if possible, than that which she had first 

 assumed. With a gentle push of the knee, and a 

 whisper of command, I send her on to ** seek/' 

 She moves a yard, and another, and yet another, 

 crawling on the ground. She stops ; not another 

 inch will she advance. I end the suspense by 

 stepping forward, the whir of many wings breaks 



