WILD SPORT IN BRITTANY. 157 



swarm of pheasants, I shall never trouble the parish for a loaf of 

 bread." 



I felt somewhat surprised at this announcement, never before 

 having met with an old soldier turned poacher but, not to check 

 the flow of his conversation, he being quite in the humour to 

 decant his stock of knowledge to the dregs, I said, " So you get 

 a head or two of them now and then, do you ? How do you 

 manage it ? Are there no keepers ? " 



" Ay, a swarm of them, too ; but they're a sleepy set, and so 

 long as they don't hear a gun or find a wire they're easy enough, 

 and don't take alarm." 



" Then you match them with brimstone, or noose them with a 

 pole and wire when at roost ? " 



The old soldier shook his head, and bid me guess again. 



"Well, then, you take a game-cock with steel spurs on in a 

 bag, and he pins them for you ? " 



" No, I don't : a cock would make too much noise to suit my 

 book. I feed the ground with a handful or two of peas on the 

 edge of a cover frequented by the pheasants, and I make half- 

 a-dozen little holes, about the size of a coffee-cup, in the earth, 

 dropping a couple of peas into each. When these have been picked 

 up, I know they'll come again for more next day ; so I twist up 

 half-a-dozen little brown-paper bags, such as in shops they give 

 you a pennyworth of comfits in, and, after smearing the inside of 

 the bags with fresh bird-lime, I sink them in the holes, dropping 

 lightly a pea Or two into the bottom of each paper. Then, as the 

 pheasants go picking along the line of peas (for they must be 

 sown in line, not broadcast), they pop their bills into the bag, 

 and suddenly find themselves hoodwinked by the paper adhering 

 to their feathers. Then, being unable to see where to run or 

 where to fly, they instantly squat like dead things. So that's my 

 opportunity I jumps out of the cover, catches them by the 

 neck, and in they goes into my wallet, without a squeak of noise. 



