A DAY WITH THE PARTRIDGE 195 



to tempt my gun, flies up, hastens towards the 

 hedge, and alights in a corner of the field amid a 

 rough tangle of briar and gorse. Fortune comes 

 a few minutes later. A " barren " bird dashes 

 out from the ditch, and is " grassed " on my 

 second barrel; and immediately I reload; and 

 her mate offers the easiest of shots as she flies 

 along by the hawthorns. 



Afterwards sport slackens ; sometimes I try to 

 pick out the old birds of the covey, and fail, or 

 the young partridges are so small that the gun 

 hangs at the trail instead of leaping to the 

 shoulder. During the afternoon, in a turnip field 

 where partridges are scattered, both dogs work 

 exceptionally well ; and strong, quick birds are 

 flushed, and dropped with a precision which I by 

 no means frequently attain. After an uneventful 

 hour, another scattered covey is surprised. Then 

 Random and Cora, tried by their hard work 

 beneath the broiling sun, begin to show signs of 

 fatigue, so I call them to me, and rest beside them 

 on the stubble till evening pales in the west, and 

 the ke-wheet, ke-wheet of a partridge that has 

 lived through the experiences of the day sounds 

 faintly from the hill-top, and seems to remind me 

 that, like a true sportsman, I should leave the 

 birds in peace at supper-time. 



The westering light gleams on my study 

 window far across the river valley. Perhaps, 



