I2O The Confessions of a Poacher. 



one by one. I remember once, on such a day, 

 taking a noble sportsman who was very keen 

 to shoot a blackcock, up to some black game 

 sitting on a thorn hedge. When he got within 

 about twenty-five yards he fired his first barrel 

 (after taking a very deliberate aim) at an old 

 grey hen. She took no notice, only shaking 

 her feathers a little, and hopping a short dis- 

 tance further on. The same result with the 

 second barrel. He loaded again and fired. 

 This time the old hen turned round, and 

 looked to see where the noise and unpleasant 

 tickling sensation came from, and grew un- 

 easy ; the next attempt made her fly on to where 

 her companions were sitting, and our friend 

 then gave up his weapon to me in despair. 

 Black game grow very stupid also when on 

 stubbles ; they will let a man fire at them, and 

 if they do not see him, will fly round the field 

 and settle again, or pitch on a wall quite near 

 to him. Grouse will do the same thing. 

 There is not much ( sport ' in such shooting 

 as this, but when out alone, and wanting to 

 make a bag, it is a sure and quick way to do 



