TOM DRAW'S VISIT TO PINE BROOK. 197 



cried Harry, feeling his horses' mouths as he spoke, but not at- 

 tempting to pull up ; and instantly the old man's heavy double 

 rose steadily but quickly to his face bang ! neatly aimed, a 

 yard ahead of the first drake, which fell quite dead into the 

 ditch on the right hand of the causeway bang ! right across 

 Harry's face, who leaned back to make roonx^for the fat fellow's 

 shot, so perfectly did the two rare and crafty sportsmen com- 

 prehend one another and before I heard the close report, the 

 second wild-duck slanted down wing-tipped before the wind, 

 into the flags on the left hand, having already crossed the road 

 when the shot struck him. The fifth and only now remaining 

 bird, which had been touched by Van Dyne's first discharge, 

 alighting in the marsh not far from his crippled comrade. 



" Beautiful ! beautiful indeed !" cried I ; " that was the very 

 prettiest thing the quickest, smartest, and best calculated shoot- 

 ing I ever yet have seen !" 



" We have done that same once or twice before though hey, 

 Tom ?" replied Harry, pulling his horses well together, and ga- 

 thering them up by slow degrees not coming to a dead stop 

 till we had passed Tom's first bird, some six yards or better. 

 " Now jump out, all of you ; we have no time to lose ; no not 

 a minute ! for we must bag these fowl ; and those two chaps 

 we saw on Mulford's meadows, are racing now at their top speed 

 behind that hill, to cut into the big meadow just ahead of us, 

 you may rely on that. You, Timothy, drive on under that big 

 pin oak take off the bridles halter the horses to the tree, not 

 to the fence and put their sheets and hoods on, for, early as it 

 is, the flies are troublesome already. Then mount the game- 

 bags and be ready by the time you're on foot we shall be with 

 you. Forester, take the red dog to Van Dyne, that second bird 

 of his will balk him else, and I sha'nt be surprised if he gets 

 up again ! Pick up that mallard out of the ditch as you go by 

 he lies quite dead at the foot of those tall reeds. Come, Tom, 

 load up your old cannon, and we'll take Shot, bag that wing- 

 tipped duck, and see if we can't nab the crippled bird, too ! come 

 along !" 



Off we set without further parley ; within five minutes I had 

 bagged Tom's first, a rare green-headed Drake, and joined Van 

 Dyne, who, with the head and neck of his first bird hanging out 

 of his breeches pocket, where, in default of game-bag, he had 

 stowed it, was just in the act of pouring a double handful of 

 BB into his Queen's Ann's musket. Before he had loaded, we 



