OLD RECOLLECTIONS 269 



a few sharp frosts. Leaves had been blown 

 through the woods in heaps to settle for a time, 

 then to go whirling away elsewhere. The 

 whole of the woodlands were drenched, wind- 

 threshed and sodden. The alder run, as it was 

 called, consisted of some trickling trout streams 

 that ran through a sheltered copse of fine alder 

 trees. As the rains had flooded the large 

 ponds, their hatches had been raised to let off 

 the surplus water, thus lowering the water in 

 the run, so that margins of peaty mud offered 

 excellent boring for cocks. As this was for- 

 tunately not swamped land, you could get about 

 without fear. A more dreary place you could 

 not imagine, shaded as it was by the leafless 

 trees, that covered the hills on either side of it. 

 Great masses of storm-clouds hung over the 

 scene. From the borings and mutings on the 

 mud and in it you saw it suited the cocks to 

 perfection. 



Whiss - whiss - whiss ! up he shoots, and 

 4 ' Mark cock!" escapes from one's lips in- 

 voluntarily, the sporting instinct being strong 

 within. 



A clean miss from our friend so clean, that 

 no excuse could be made for it. Quark ! swit- 

 swit, quark ! and away shoots a mallard, but 



