THE TRICKS OF POACHERS. 139 



and find a hare, he quarters every yard of ground with marvellous 

 patience. Meanwhile the Poacher sets his net in a gateway, or at 

 a stile, or a gap, where by woodcraft he has learned that the hare 

 will run. If all goes right, he has puss in his ample pocket before 

 she has time to squeal. Should, however, a stranger approach, 

 the lurcher, ever on the alert, gives timely warning, not by so 

 much as a growl, but by going quickly away from, instead of 

 towards his master, whom this intelligent dog has been taught 

 not to recognize or make friends with in the presence of a 

 stranger. I once knew a neat trick of poaching done in broad 

 daylight. On fresh-fallen snow I came across the tracks of a 

 hare, which seemed to have been going slowly towards its 

 form. Following every turn and double were the footprints of a 

 lurcher. Guided by them, I came to the empty form, and thence 

 could follow by sight of more hasty footsteps all the windings of a 

 chase, until they ended at a gateway, where the faint markings of 

 a net, a few drops of blood, and a yellow stain on the snow showed 

 clearly what had happened. From the gateway, up a narrow lane, 

 the dog's tracks kept company with those of hob-nailed boots 

 until all traces of them were lost amid the wheel ruts on a much- 

 frequented highway. When a lurcher is used to bring young 

 black game to a Poacher's gun or net on the open moor, he has a 

 trick of loping along at a gait so closely resembling that of a 

 shepherd's tired dog that he at times deceives the shyest old 

 birds. Next to his lurcher, perhaps, a Poacher's best friend, 

 though unwillingly so, is the keeper, one of the "wild creatures" 

 on knowledge of whose habits success in poaching depends 

 greatly. Keepers, with all their zeal and watchfulness, fall into 

 grooves about which the fraternity of Poachers can easily learn all 

 they want to know. Then they go to work with confidence. 



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