SHOOTING RED-LEGS IN THE SNOW 251 



brother through the hedge. The dogs could not get 

 across to retrieve on account of the piles of snow, so he 

 walked down some way until he came to what seemed a 

 level crossing, though the absence of gateposts in the 

 opening in the fence ought to have warned him. Step- 

 ping boldly across, he at once sank into the ditch up to 

 his shoulders, only his head and arms appearing above 

 the snow. The dogs were dreadfully upset at the 

 incident, one of them howling with excitement and 

 sympathy. Nor was it an easy matter to get him out, 

 for the brambles beneath the snow laced him in. 

 However, after taking his gun, I managed to get a 

 hurdle and throw it on to the snow, by means of which 

 he extricated himself, and then got the bird. By this 

 time we were pretty hungry, and were making our way 

 to some stacks to eat our luncheon, when the sun, 

 which had been shining brightly, was obscured by a fall 

 of the finest and driest snow. Then followed a beautiful 

 snow scene. A small whirlwind, like those which often 

 travel across the cornfields in harvest time, and twist up 

 straws and barley swathes to great heights in the air, 

 swept round the high plain on which we were, and 

 wreathed the light snow into fantastic clouds. Presently 

 we found ourselves in the centre of the vortex, and 

 stood surrounded by the eddying rime, through which 

 the sun dimly penetrated. As we approached the 

 stacks we could see that we were not the only creatures 

 repairing to them for warmth and shelter. Hundreds 

 of yellow-hammers, chaffinches, and greenfinches were 

 hopping and fluttering beneath the stacks. The rooks 



