1 82 LETTERS TO YOUNG SPORTSMEN. 



walks were quite long enough, especially in the dusk, over 

 those trackless wastes. I used to bicycle, when arrange- 

 ments permitted, so far as the roads served. The village 

 and its inn, where the sportsman must live, are, as usual, 

 some distance from the best ground, but one could always 

 find something after a very short walk. Grouse were limited 

 to twenty brace, and were killed for the larder when wanted, 

 or to swell the list of varieties ; they lay well when located — 

 by a dog, of course — and never flew far. Black game were 

 numerous, but consisted chiefly of packs of old hens, barren, 

 and a limited number of cocks, also old, who used to go 

 through the antics of that spurious " rut " which seems to 

 be provoked by the lovely Indian summer days of October. 

 Pheasants there were, too, gleaning the exiguous stubbles 

 and scattered among the birch scrub. They roosted in the 

 long heather, trees and foxes being absent. Cocks only 

 were killed. Two or three coveys of partridges were 

 invariably difficult to find, and, once flushed, had a knack 

 of disappearing for the day. A cave held great store of 

 rock pigeons, which were " bolted " by a man entering, 

 and were shot at from above. I say " at " advisedly. 

 Anybody who fancies himself as a performer with the 

 scatter-gun should try these birds under similar conditions. 

 His failure will purge him of much conceit. This cave 

 was a long way off, and could only be attacked at 

 low tide. 



But the migrants were the chief attraction. November 

 in that year was a very snowy month on the mainland, and 

 my return to the island early in December found the scrub 

 patches and heathery precipices well stocked with wood- 

 cocks. The walking was mostly rough, but the consequent 

 difficulty in shooting (for one must keep one's eye on the 

 spaniel) was largely cancelled by the absence of real trees. 

 My best eight days resulted in a total of 160 woodcocks, 

 plus etceteras. I do not think another gun would have 

 helped me much : one wants to shoot in any direction on 

 such ground, unhampered by any consideration — however 

 brief — of manners or safety. Perhaps the most enjoyable 

 of these days (though the number of woodcocks killed on 

 each varied but little) was one spent in hunting the shores 



