SOME MEMORIES 317 



engine of destruction, his home-made 

 cartridges charged with a liberal load of 

 black powder. The birds were high 

 enough and curling, but each time the 

 sharp double report of the Schultze was 

 followed by a roar and a burst of smoke, 

 and down came the bird amidst tre- 

 mendous applause from the circle of 

 admirers who surrounded the local sports- 

 man. 



Norfolk pheasants have little reputa- 

 tion in the shooting world, but memories 

 of Holkham coverts are among the most 

 pleasant to recall; there was little fault 

 to be found with the birds, especially if 

 you were in one of the back lines ; and 

 there was the sense of taking part in a 

 historic performance, under the keen, 

 critical eye of a master of the game. 



The meeting of autumn and winter; 

 an afternoon in late November, a day of 

 blustering north wind, of flying clouds 

 and changing skies, of transient sunshine 

 and sudden scud of driving sleet and rain. 



