PHEASANT-SHOOTING. 251 



heap) to find the records of days on which the long- 

 tailed bird has afforded me rough-and-ready fun. The 

 following was a representative day : 



The legitimate season of stag-hunting on Exmoor 

 had drawn to a close, and I, who had seen some thirty 

 odd stags fairly done to death, was beginning to 

 think of a return to more civilised parts in order to be 

 ready for the opening days of fox-hunting. The love 

 of the " chase of the wild red deer," which grows upon 

 one so, had entered into me, and as our worthy Master 

 held out the hope of one, or even two by-days, I 

 lingered on in the land of Lorna Doone. One day 

 towards the end of the third week in October I formed 

 one of a small band of sportsmen who stood round 

 while the Exmoor Hounds broke up their fox after 

 a capital moorland gallop. A jolly " Zummerzet" 

 farmer, whom I had often met out with these hounds 

 and the staghounds, came up to me and asked if I 

 would care for a day's shooting on the following 

 Saturday. I had little enough to do with my off-days, 

 so jumped at the chance. 



" There be a tidy few pheasants on the farm," said 



he. " Muster T , of Dulverton, be coming too, and 



I dare say he'll drive ye over." 



So it was arranged, and the Saturday morning 

 found us driving out of the quaint little town of 

 Dulverton. The farm the very name of which I 

 forget was situated on a sloping bank, which ran 

 down to those great Haddon coverts, so well known to, 

 and so little loved by, stag-hunters. On this occasion 

 they owed me nothing, for had they not, only four 



