LEAVES FROM A GAME BOOK, 111 



This seemed to annoy him somewhat, and as there 

 was a grin on his face which appeared to imply I 

 was making a fuss about nothing, I reloaded and told 

 him to fire a shot for himself, and right cheerfully he 

 obeyed ; but when, after pulling the trigger, the gun 

 flew out of his hands and he found himself with a 

 bleeding cheekbone and singing ears, he realised that 

 there was something really amiss. " I'm just fairly 

 dazed, sir," said he ; " what sort of powd.er can it be ? " 

 Then, suspecting the cause, I questioned him as to where 

 the cartridges had been kept, and learned that, fearing 

 they might have become damp, he always put them each 

 night on the kitchen hob ! On hearing this, I spread 

 them out on wet grass and covered them over with damp 

 moss, and thus we left them for fully an hour while we 

 strolled about. Then, with fear and trembling, I fired 

 another shot, when the explosion was of the usual and 

 normal kind, and I went on shooting till I had got 105* 

 rabbits without anything unpleasant again occurring. 

 This contretemps only shows how highly dangerous nitro 

 powders become if deprived of all moisture, and how 



