312 



The A inert can Angler. 



From the time we entered this part of 

 the farm until we returned that evening 

 we had grand sport. 



We got up twenty-three coveys, 

 killed one hundred and ten birds and 

 hadn't been a mile and a half from the 

 house. 



This seemed almost too good to be 

 true and I had to pinch myself to be 

 sure that it wasn't a repetition of the 

 hunt I had on the train in my sleep. 

 The birds were packed in a box and 

 instructions given Abe to cover the 

 box with straw and take them into 

 town in the morning in time for the 

 Richmond express, which passed Dan- 

 ville at 8.30 — no partridges are allowed 

 to be shipped out of the State of North 

 Carolina, hence the precaution of cover- 

 ing the box with straw. 



In telling about our day's sport at the 

 table that night I could see something 

 had gone wrong with Mr. Travers. 

 None of the family took any of the 

 birds. I caught it as quick as a flash, 

 and promised that we would kill some 

 old hares the next day. This seemed to 

 put the whole family in a good humor 

 and made it decidedly pleasanter for us, 

 though the thought of carrying around 

 a lot of old hares was anything but 

 pleasant, so I determined to press into 

 service " Dan'l," Mr. T.'s only son, a 

 handsome strawberry blonde about 

 fifteen years old. He was delighted 

 when his father gave his permission 

 for him to go. He thought with the 

 old family piece he could kill all the 

 " cotton tails " that got up. 



The dogs were soon fed, combed and 

 put to bed, two hundred shells loaded 

 with three and a half drachms of pow- 

 der and an eighth of No. 9 shot, the 

 guns cleaned, and two happy men 

 turned in for a good night's rest. 



By eight o'clock next morning we 



were on our way to a field on the edge 

 of the creek where Mr. T. said we 

 would have all the shooting we wanted, 

 as all the birds from the low grounds 

 had been driven up into that field. 

 We kept the dogs in until " Danl. " told 

 us we had reached the place. The field 

 contained about three hundred acres 

 and inside of two hours we had gotten 

 up fourteen splendid coveys. After the 

 first shot they would invariably go to 

 a piece of pine woods just on the edge 

 of the creek. After hunting the entire 

 field we started for the pines where we 

 knew there were at least three hundred 

 and fifty birds. 



As soon as we were in the woods we 

 made the dogs hunt " close " and com- 

 menced an hour of as grand sport as 

 was ever had on this continent. 



At half past four o'clock we stopped 

 shooting and counted our game; we 

 had killed thirteen old hares and one 

 hundred and forty-three partridges. 



On the third day we commenced in 

 the small piece of wheat stubble where 

 we started the first covey on Monday; 

 the birds had learned lots since we first 

 met them and we were only able to get 

 three of them. 



We hunted during that day in the 

 fields back of the house and bagged 

 one hundred and three, no old hares, as 

 the second day's work gave a week's 

 supply. 



On the fourth day we himted over 

 about the same ground hunted on the 

 second day but not with the same good 

 luck. Why, I don't know, as we cer- 

 tainly saw as many birds and worked 

 just as hard. However, when we 

 boned the birds that night to ship to 

 our Richmond friends we couldn't make 

 it foot up but seventy-six. 



As there may be some of your read- 

 ers who knew Fan when she belonged to 



