58 The Confessions of a ^Poacher. 



with the grain. This springs between the corn 

 stalks, and by the time the golden sheaves are 

 carried, has swathed the stubble with mantling 

 green. This, before all others, is the crop 

 which hares love. 



Poaching is one of the fine arts, and the 

 man who would succeed must be a specialist. If 

 he has sufficient strength to refrain from general 

 " mouching," he will succeed best by selecting 

 one particular kind of game, and directing his 

 whole knowledge of woodcraft against it. In 

 spring and summer I was wont to closely scan 

 the fields, and as embrowned September drew 

 near, knew the whereabouts of every hare in 

 the parish not only the field where it lay, 

 but the very clump of rushes in which was its 

 form. As puss went away from the gorse, or 

 raced down the turnip-rigg, I took in every 

 twist and double down to the minutest detail. 



Then I scanned the " smoots " and gates 

 through which she passed, and was always 

 careful to approach these laterally. I left no 

 trace of hand nor print of foot, nor disturbed 

 the rough herbage. Late afternoon brought 



