n6 GUN, RIFLE, AND HOUND. 



shooting morning. The wind was high, and there 

 were occasional showers. A gun-room conference 

 was held, and our host not being keen on going out 

 himself, it was decided we two should work some 

 outlying beats, leaving the best ground for a finer 



day. The dogs at P were all pretty bad, so Jack 



said, but we took two and started. 



The dogs certainly were pretty bad, but not long 

 after we had started, one of them made a pretty steady 

 point. I went towards him, out flew a bird, and up 

 went my gun. The keeper's warning cry was too 

 late to stop me, but it put me off, and the gray hen, 

 for such it was, flew off unscathed, amid my friend's 

 laughter. Soon afterwards we got among the right 

 article, and I bagged my first grouse. This, of course, 

 was not much of a day, but the whole thing, moors 

 and all, being new to me, I enjoyed it considerably. 

 When we returned to the house, we found that the 

 parson had arrived, and that our party was made up. 



The next day was fine and warm, the dogs were, 

 by our host's orders, left at home, and everything 

 promised for a good day's sport. We tossed for 

 beats, and Jack and I fell together. We were both 

 shooting well, and the bag mounted up rapidly, so 

 much so that by lunch we had left the other two far 

 behind. This was no wonder, as one of them was 

 an elderly gentleman disinclined to exertion, and as 

 for the other, as the head keeper observed to Jack, 

 11 Gin nae mair gude cam' o' his preachin' than o' his 

 shootin' he wad na convairt mony sinners." 



We worked on steadily again after lunch, which, 



