88 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! " 



of John, they could be no longer restrained and were 

 falling to in all fury ; so that Mead exclaimed : ' It's no 

 use. These dogs'll never agree and they'll frighten all 

 the birds off the place. We must each go different ways, 

 and each take his own dog.' Suiting the action to the 

 word, before I had time to ask for directions, he beat 

 the dogs asunder and hurried away, leading Ponto by 

 the ear, and I was left alone with Don." 



Thus far I quote from The Sport of Shooting (Routledge 

 & Sons), for it is a faithful report of what happened, 

 and I am able to verify it from one of the letters written 

 to my sister, the first sheet of which is missing, but it 

 takes up the story thus : 



SLEIGHTS, 

 [Date, no doubt, i$th Aug. 1866.] 



man in the gig who was supposed to be thoroughly acquainted 

 with the road led the horse. [It would seem that John got down 

 for this purpose. W. A.]. Even then we drove into the moor 

 several times. We arrived a little before four and soon started 

 shooting. At about four o'clock, I heard bang, bang, bang, 

 and great shouts. " Now then, look out ! " said Mead (that is 

 the man's name) firing up into the air, with no effect. I saw 

 a black object looming in the distance, and fired vaguely into 

 space, and, of course, missed. The fortunate grouse escaped 

 everybody (there were now about seven shooting). 



After this, you can imagine my disgust on finding that the 

 dog, which I have fed myself every day and taken the greatest 

 possible pains with, would persist in following and fighting with 

 Mead's dog, and, when driven away, turned sulky and would not 

 range ; so I could only get a chance at birds which had been shot 

 at by someone else and, of course, were much harder to hit, as 

 they flew faster. However, my second shot was more successful, 

 at 4.5 A.M. (of course I timed my first grouse), driven, of course, 

 by the shots fired at it. Mead [now some distance away] saw it, 

 but could not get a shot. " Now then I '' he cried ; nearer it 

 came ; thoughts flitted through my mind as to the consequences 

 if I missed it. My hand trembled, I pointed my weapon . . . 

 and as the smoke cleared away an attentive observer might 

 have seen an inanimate and white-trousered bird, lying on the 

 heather, and a youth apparently of about 15 years of age making 



