252 IN HIGH SUFFOLK 



were pulling away the thatch, and a covey of grey 

 partridges rose close by, and one fell a long shot to 

 my brother's gun. 



The bag, eleven red-legs and one grey bird, were 

 laid upon the snow, and admired, and we fell to upon 

 the luncheon. As for the cherry brandy, we could 

 drink it like claret, and feel no ill effects in such a 

 frost. The birds which we had laid upon the snow 

 were frozen hard and fast to the surface when we once 

 more started to shoot. 



Our idea was to take down a long boundary fence, 

 some three-quarters of a mile in length, which marked 

 the limit of a three-hundred acre farm. Most of this 

 had, in accordance with modern notions, been stripped 

 of its hedges, and laid into one monotonous stretch of 

 corn land. Many strong coveys of French birds had 

 been on it all the season, and had hitherto laughed at 

 all our efforts to touch them. 



To-day, as we expected, they were all along the 

 boundary fence, and not choosing to desert it for the 

 white and covertless expanse of snow, they simply flew 

 on, and pitched in again. The first covey rose wild, 

 but we saw them all drop in pairs and singly along 

 the fence, so calling the dogs in, we hurried onwards. 

 A hare then bounced out from the ditch, looking as 

 big and brown as a fox, and fell to my gun, and before 

 we reached the spot where the other birds had dropped, 

 another covey rose, straggling from the fence, and left 

 three of their number kicking on the snow ; these also 

 went forward, and we began to have great hopes of a 



