WALKING UP 155 



"well did we know one another's form and every inch 

 of the 17,000 acres, or thereabouts, which make up 

 that well-known sporting estate, that I verily believe 

 on that ground no three men could have beaten us. 

 My uncle was almost like a boy himself, singularly 

 active and powerful, and an exceptionally fine shot. 

 We understood every wave of his hand or look of his 

 eye, and learnt thoroughly all that can be done by 

 three guns and a few well-trained men on the war- 

 path for partridges, whether in the hot days of early 

 September, when a good-natured tenant of the old- 

 fashioned sort would insist on our walking through 

 the standing barley and beans, or in the late October, 

 when the fields were cleared, and by running, circum- 

 venting, half-mooning, and occasional impromptu 

 driving, we managed to get the birds into a scanty 

 field of cold wet swedes or a welcome bit of gorse- 

 cover. 



He had a little Irish red retriever, called Gunner, 

 the best, I think, I ever saw. It was a treat to see this 

 little beast on a winged bird. No jumping about with 

 his head in the air, but with nose to the ground and 

 at a terrific pace he would carry the scent down 

 the drill right through fresh unsprung birds to the 

 end of the field, double back, down and up again, 

 lose it for a moment, execute a perfect cast for him- 



