A HARE DRIVE 19 



head forester, in the character of my ghillie, 

 had meanwhile been sent to the foot of the 

 ridge as a " stop " to prevent the hares 

 doubling back and to turn them upwards. 



Imagining there would be some time to 

 wait, I was slowly re-tying a bootlace when 

 the first hare scuttled past. Out of shot be- 

 fore the little gun could get to the shoulder. 

 The fun soon began. Another hare dashed 

 past below me one shot, a white fluffy body 

 lay still. They came in a rush then between 

 me and the top ridge. As many as seven and 

 eight at a time, above and below. One white 

 hare practically ran into me while I was firing 

 at another farther off. There would have 

 been work enough for a pair of automatic 

 guns. Gently I swore in my heart that the 

 little gun had been made before even ejectors 

 came into fashion. Yet it did its work as 

 well and fast as it could. The hares varied 

 their courses a good deal. Some came lollop- 

 ing along, stopping, looking about, sitting up, 

 twirling their whiskers, then slowly on again, 

 when some of them were stopped for the last 



