Poachers 2 1 7 



abroad, teaching partridges and pheasants to feed in 

 particular spots, where, choosing a windy day on which 

 sound would not travel far, he killed them in open 

 daylight. Nevertheless, in spite of his knowingness, 

 he could not escape the usual fate. He took to drink- 

 ing badly, and had no money to pay his fines, and 

 so had to go to prison frequently, and after every spell 

 came out more of a desperado and less his own 

 athletic self. Then he began to nourish feelings of 

 revenge against the keeper who had oftenest been 

 instrumental in his capture. Finally they met and 

 had a fatal quarrel. The last I heard of Mark was 

 that he was doing a long term for manslaughter. 



Of all the poachers who once lived in the district 

 where these examples mostly are taken from, and who 

 used to fight and play quoits and get drunk in the 

 yard of the Black Bull, one only is left. He goes by 

 the nickname of Sodger Whiff, because he was once 

 in the army, and in his cups he tells the story of an 

 engagement he was in, when, as he invariably tells his 

 auditors, ' The gun went off whiff! ' The rustics all 

 laugh when he comes to that bit, because they expect 

 it. What he is most expert at is making an excuse 

 when he is caught. Does the owner of preserved 

 water come upon him using salmon roe, of the pre- 

 paration of which he still holds the secret, he so plaus- 

 ibly recounts the story of some great pike which he is 

 anxious to kill for the good of the fishing that as likely as 

 not he gets a present of tackle, or some drink money 



