CHAPTER XXI 



The Coverts 



COVERT shooting is almost the sole survival of 

 the old-fashioned manner of sport, and even 

 covert shooting, especially in the Southlands, has been 

 inevitably degenerating into the battue. We use the 

 word -"degenerating " advisedly, because although the 

 battue is absurdly abused by those who know nothing 

 about it, and though it tests the skill of the marksman 

 like grouse driving or pigeon shooting, yet it cannot 

 compare for the exhilaration of excitement with wilder 

 and more irregular work. For the partridges, even in 

 September, unfortunately no man can go out nowadays 

 with the well-broken couple of pointers and the drilled 

 retriever at heel. In place of wading up to the ankle 

 in hand-shorn stubbles, the fields have been swept clean 

 as a tennis-lawn, and the straggling roots in the broad 

 drills offer no satisfactory shelter. The birds are up 

 and away before the dogs would be within drawing 

 distance. Even with the muirfowl in Yorkshire and 

 on many of the best of the Scotch moors, driving is 

 become the fashion, and with good reason. If birds 



will pack before the season has well begun, they must 



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