The Confessions of a Poacher. 1 1 1 



sights and sounds that warm me to my work, 

 and dearly I love the moor-game. Years ago 

 I had sown grain along the fell-side so as to 

 entice the grouse within range of an old flint- 

 lock which I used with deadly effect from 

 behind a stone wall. Then snares were set on 

 the barley sheaves and corn stooks, by which a 

 brace of birds were occasionally bagged. In 

 after years an unforseen grouse harvest came 

 in quite an unexpected manner. With the 

 enclosure of the Commons hundreds of miles of 

 wire fencing was erected, and in this way, 

 before the birds had become accustomed to it, 

 numbers were killed by flying against the 



