SOME MEMORIES 315 



be shot going back, and young fingers 

 itch to pull trigger as the old cocks come 

 swinging back over the trees ; but rules 

 are not made for nothing at Holkham, 

 and no one has serious thoughts of 

 transgressing. 



This is the critical hour of the day's 

 manoeuvre ; in the few acres of wood in 

 front of the line, anything from 1000 to 

 1500 pheasants are collected ; there re- 

 mains to push them over the road into 

 the clump. The line moves on slowly ; 

 orders come to shoot any birds going 

 back, and with increased noise of shoot- 

 ing, and stentorian shouts from the stout 

 lungs of Norfolk beaters, the pheasants 

 swarm across the open until the last is 

 safely housed in the clump. 



The guns are now lined three-deep 

 across the open ground for the single rise 

 of the day ; while the keeper of the beat 

 strips himself of coat and billycock hat, 

 for though his chief anxiety is now set at 

 rest, there is still plenty of work for him 

 to do. He enters the clump alone from 



