HOW WE FARED. 215 



way back to Tangier to make good the deficiencies ; yet 



a dinner had to be found somehow for T and for a 



gentleman guest, and with the aid of the servants I set 

 to work to catch one of our own fowls. 



But I little knew what I was attempting. Our 

 garden, on the steep slopes of Mount Washington, with 

 its many terraces and walks, nights of rough stone 

 steps, and tangle of luxuriant vegetation, offered so 

 many points of vantage to the active birds, that at the 

 end of half an hour we were all exhausted with running, 

 breathless and giddy with the heat ; while the fowls, on 

 the contrary, fresher and livelier than ever, seemed 

 mocking all our efforts to catch them ; and in despair I 

 took from its hiding-place a little weapon of defence, 

 provided in view of possible midnight visits from bur- 

 glarious Moors. 



Grasping the revolver in one hand, and with the 

 other treacherously holding out a sieve of barley, I 

 stalked one fowl after another in most unsportsman- 

 like fashion ; inviting the guileless creatures to feed, 

 and then firing at them, sometimes so close that it 

 seemed as if the intended victim must be blown to 

 pieces. But no, there he was, when the smoke cleared 

 away, going off with a triumphant chuckle; wilder 

 and more wary with each unsuccessful shot. 



What was to be done ? Time was passing ; T 



would be coming home hungry by dinner-time, ready 

 for something better than a vegetarian repast ; and 

 some creature or other I began to feel that I did not 

 \wy much care what had not only to be caught and 



