CH. XXVIII. DISGUISED POACHERS. 131 



They seem to feel more security with an open 

 expanse around them than in any kind of conceal- 

 ment. The whole covey sits crouched in a space 

 that might almost be covered with a hat, so closely 

 are they huddled together. After having made 

 their evening meal in the stubbles, which they 

 always do, in the autumn and winter, between the 

 hours of three and five, the old birds call their 

 brood and collect them together ; they then fly off 

 to some grass-field or other very bare ground, and 

 having run about, apparently in play, for a little 

 while, as soon as the light begins to fail they 

 fly off to some favourite spot in the field, and, 

 huddling up together in a furrow, take up their 

 quarters for the night. Unluckily all this is done 

 with a great deal of noise ; the birds constantly 

 calling to and answering each other, and running 

 to and fro with their heads most conspicuously 

 erect, thus plainly showing the netting -poacher, 

 who is sure to be on the look-out, where he may 

 expect the best luck during the night. While this 

 work is being carried on, you may see some fellow, 

 often dressed more like a schoolmaster than a 

 poacher, lounging listlessly about the lanes, leaning 

 against the gates and smoking his pipe. You never 

 suspect that any sporting propensities can be con- 

 cealed under the high-crowned beaver and swallow- 



