38 WANDERINGS AND MEMORIES 



parts of Fort George a bunch of mallard drifting 

 down with the tide. There were three or four 

 hundred of them, and they were packed close and 

 fast asleep. It was a fine chance, so, calling the 

 puntsman, Hugh Smith, we soon ran out to them. 

 My own big gun being out of repair, I took one 

 belonging to Major Lang, which had, unknown to 

 me, been put aside as out of order. We got well 

 "in," and when I pulled the trigger cord I thought 

 that at least forty mallard would lie dead on the 

 surface. A terrific explosion followed, after which 

 I remembered nothing for a moment or two, and 

 then I heard Hugh swear as only he and a Western 

 cowboy could do. He was completely blinded by 

 the powder and fragments of brass cartridge. 

 When at last I could open one eye, Hugh's face, 

 perfectly black, and running in little streams of 

 blood, was the first thing I saw, and, serious as 

 the occasion was, I could hardly refrain from 

 laughing. After a bit I got a paddle out and 

 managed to get the punt back to the fort, but I 

 did not soon forget that unlucky morning or the 

 wonderful shot that would have been made had 

 all gone well. A fortnight passed before Smith was 

 able to work again. 



After hunting the Tay mud-flats in early August 

 I used to go to Loch Leven or the coast-line on the 

 chance of stray and rare visitors, and then returned 

 to Murthly to hunt Woodcock in the great fern 

 banks. " Jet " was very good at this class of 

 work, and I have shot as many as twelve in a 

 day, hunting solely for the birds that had bred 

 on the estate. One day I had an extraordinary 

 piece of luck (August 6th, 1885). Jet " pointed " 



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