MY FIRST GROUSE 89 



frantic attempts to load again in less than no time, on account 

 of his extreme desire to pick up the game it, of course, being 

 unsportsmanlike to advance with empty gun. 



About ten minutes after, I got another shot at a driven bird 

 and killed it at least knocked it over and while endeavouring 

 to extinguish the remnant of its life, lost sight of Mead, and as 

 there was now a thick mist completely lost myself until it cleared 

 away. There were by this time about 60 people shooting, and 

 as my dog would not range, but "shivering follow at my heel, !J 

 I got no more. We set off home again at 9 o'clock A.M., and thus 

 ended my first morning of grouse shooting. 



I may as well add here that I have shot a good many 

 grouse since that morning, but none have left a memory 

 so fresh and happy as did that first brace. 



This, however, is a holiday interlude. I must revert 

 to Rugby in the winter term of 1866, when I took my 

 place in the Twenty, of which Jex-Blake, to whom I was 

 sincerely attached, was the master. 



