AX OLD SPORTSMAN. 67 



a peculiar glint of wings in it, and with a warn- 

 ing to Uncle Joe and Jack, we all lie down in 

 the heather in profound silence. I keep my 

 eye fixed on the usual line of flight I know the 

 " stand" will take, and make a sign for Jack 

 to call. Jack can almost talk the unfortunate 

 plover near enough to have salt dropped on 

 their tails. He purses his mouth, and puts his 

 face towards the ground, and a wonderfully 

 clear tone and semitone travel into the frosty 

 atmosphere. We listen earnestly. Hark ! 

 the answer is returned. Again Jack performs, 

 and again the vanguard of the plover brigade 

 responds to him this time in a quick and 

 eager style. And now, rushing towards us 

 right from a straight line, and covering an 

 extent of five or six hundred yards, we see the 

 birds. Jack's lure has been almost too per- 

 fect, for as they are preparing to alight they 

 spread themselves out, and we can only get a 

 front shot at them. They are drawing quite 

 close, but from the mode of their advance it 

 would be impossible to do much execution, 

 and so we execute the following manoeuvre : 

 when the plover are about thirty yards from 



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