BLACKGAME 247 



turn towards the sound, you catch a 

 glimpse of a cock hotly pursuing his 

 lady love, low over the heather, till they 

 are lost to view behind the ridge, only to 

 reappear high in the air, still doubling 

 and turning together till they are lost to 

 view. 



A low warning whistle from your 

 neighbour recalls you to the work in 

 hand, and you grip your gun expectantly 

 as you discern shadows bearing straight 

 down on you through the wood. 



Ah ! you very nearly made a blunder; 

 those were a dozen greyhens, and though 

 the sun was a little in your eyes, you 

 would never have heard the last of it if 

 you had shot a brace of ladies, which you 

 certainly would have done your best to 

 do had it not been for the timely " ware 

 hen " of the other gun. 



There is a fine of ten shillings imposed 

 here for the death of a greyhen, and 

 vigorously enforced, the proceeds being 

 devoted to local charities. A praise- 

 worthy custom, for greyhens should never 



