96 WILD FOWL SHOOTING, 
bell before getting up. Don will pickup the dead ones. 
You take the first bird that gets up.” 
“ Let him go,” says Ned, “any time, and if I don’t 
knock the stuff i 
“Ha! ha! Just what I expected when it flew up. 
It rose against the wind, and when you fired the first 
barrel it wasn’t twenty feet from you, coming almost 
into your face. You missed it with the second, because 
your first miss rattled you. Don’t be in such a rush 
when they get up. I thought you would shoot too 
quick and miss it, so I was prepared for it. 
“See! Don has just picked it up, and it’s only 
about thirty yards from us; I had plenty of time to kill 
it after you fired both barrels. You see what the dog 
did? He marked the bird and has gone and got it 
while you and I stand talking here. 
‘* Now, watch him give it to me. 
“‘That’s right! Good boy! See, he sits on his 
haunches, raises his nose to me, and IJ take the bird from 
his mouth, without having to stoop over a particle. If 
there is anything I dislike, it’s having a dog half 
retrieve ; or, when bringing the bird all right, to walk 
around me, ducking his head, and constantly keeping 
the bird out of reach; or, dropping it on the ground at 
my feet,—worse still, jumping up, putting his paws on 
me, splashing and plastering mud over my clothes. The 
latter is decidedly dangerous, and especially so if one is 
shooting with a hammer gun. 
“Look at your feet, Ned!” 
‘“ What’s the matter with my feet? Idon’t see any- 
thing,” replied Ned. 
“Don’t you see those holes about as large around as 
a pencil? They have been boring here for worms, and 
