CHRISTOPHER IN HIS SPORTING JACKET 



approachable reeds and rushes, and hut-crested knoll 

 a hut built perhaps by some fowler, in the olden 

 time yon central Isle! But be still as a shadow for 

 lo ! a batch of Whig-seceders, paddling all by them- 

 selves towards that creek and as surely as our name 

 is Christopher, in another quarter of an hour, they 

 will consist of killed, wounded, and missing. On our 

 belly with unhatted head just peering over the 

 knowe and Muckle-mou^d Meg slowly and softly 

 stretched out on the rest, so as not to rustle a windle- 

 strae, we lie motionless as a mawkin, till the coterie 

 collects together for simultaneous dive down to the 

 aquatic plants and insects of the fast -shallowing bay; 

 and, just as they are upon the turn with their tails, 

 a single report, loud as a volley, scatters the unspar- 

 ing slugs about their doups, and the still clear water, 

 in sudden disturbance, is afloat with scattered feathers, 

 and stained with blood. 



Now is the time for the snow-white, here and there 

 ebon-spotted Fro who with burning eyes has lain 

 couched like a spaniel, his quick breath ever and anon 

 trembling on a passionate whine, to bounce up, as if 

 discharged by a catapulta, and first with immense 

 and enormous high-and-far leaps, and then, fleet as 

 any greyhound, with a breast-brushing brattle down 

 the brae, to dash, all fours, like a flying squirrel fear- 

 lessly from his tree, many yards into the bay with one 

 [70] 



