The Open Air 



so that all four cartridges could be got in. But that 

 they will not do. For the present, the double-barrel 

 is the gun of the time. 



Still I mean some day to buy a single-barrel, and 

 wander with it as of old along the hedges, aware that 

 if I am not skilful enough to bring down with the first 

 shot I shall lose my game. It is surprising how 

 confident of that one shot you may get after a while. 

 On the one hand, it is necessary to be extremely 

 keen ; on the other, to be sure of your own self-control, 

 not to fire uselessly. The bramble-bushes on the 

 shore of the ditch ahead might cover a hare. Through 

 the dank and dark-green aftermath a rabbit might 

 suddenly come bounding, disturbed from the furrow 

 where he had been feeding. On the sandy paths 

 which the rabbits have made aslant up the mound, 

 and on their terraces, where they sit and look out 

 from under the boughs, acorns have dropped ripe 

 from the tree. Where there are acorns there may be 

 pheasants; they may crouch in the fern and dry 

 grey grass of the hedge thinking you do not see them, 

 or else rush through and take wing on the opposite 

 side. The only chance of a shot is as the bird passes 

 a gap visible while flying a yard just time to pull 

 the trigger. But I would rather have that chance 

 than have to fire between the bars of a gate; for the 

 horizontal lines cause an optical illusion, making the 

 object appear in a different position from what it 

 really is in, and half the pellets are sure to be buried 

 in the rails. Wood-pigeons, when eagerly stuffing 

 their crops with acorns, sometimes forget their usual 

 caution; and, walking slowly, I have often got right 

 underneath one as unconscious of his presence as 

 he was of mine, till a sudden dashing of wings against 

 boughs and leaves announced his departure. This 



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