184 Sporting Sketches 



stump. The first shot missed, but the second 

 doubled the woodcock up like a rag and sent it roll- 

 ing down amid a cloud of feathers. Some distance 

 off in a little gap in the foliage appeared a broad, 

 black, and very anxious face, and the owner of it at 

 once spotted the man on the stump. 



" Hyar, Marse Ned ! Too bad ob yo' to be 

 playin' roots on me like dat. I knowed yo' was up to 

 some debiltry. Yo' cum down offen dar; I ain't 

 a-playin' dawg fo' yo'. But did yo' get um ? " 



" All right, I got him," and he descended from 

 his perch and aided the dog to find the bird ; and 

 after it was secured the two worked on until the end 

 was reached, getting a couple of cock on the way. 

 At the extreme end of the swale was a small clump 

 of willows, and they decided to finish with it, as it 

 was now growing excessively warm and the pointer 

 was dead beat ; besides, Duckett's prophesied storm 

 was apparently not far distant. The dog drew cau- 

 tiously through the grass, but no sooner had he 

 neared the willows than a cock flushed, then an- 

 other, and another, evidently birds that had been 

 driven there within a short time. One made back 

 for the swale and Marse Ned stopped it, the others 

 flew out in the open and now was Duckett's chance. 

 Ere he could pull upon either Marse Ned's second 

 barrel was fired, but the cock flew bravely on for 

 a few yards, then came down in response to the 

 darky's shot. 



" Good on your head ; you've wiped my eye ! " 

 But Duckett was squinting along the rib after cock 

 number three, now a good sixty yards off. " Shoot, 

 man, sh " The trigger was at last pulled, and to 



