The First Gun. 1 1 



the great green dragon-fly rested on a leaf, his tail 

 arched a little downwards, just as he puts it when he 

 wishes to stop suddenly in his. flight. 



The broad glittering trigger-guard got quite hot 

 in the sun, and the stock was warm when I felt it 

 every now and then. The grain of the walnut-wood 

 showed plainly through the light polish : it was not 

 varnished like the stock of the double-barrel they 

 kept padlocked to the rack over the high mantelpiece 

 indoors. Still you could see the varnish. It was of 

 a rich dark horse-chestnut colour, and yet so bright 

 and clear that if held close you could see your face in 

 it. Behind it the grain of the wood was just percep- 

 tible ; especially at the grip, where hard hands had 

 worn it away somewhat. The secret of that varnish 

 is lost like that of the varnish on the priceless old 

 violins. 



But you could feel the wood more in my gun : so 

 that it was difficult to keep the hand off it, though 

 the rabbits would not come out ; and the shadowless 

 recess grew like a furnace, for it focussed the rays of 

 the sun. The heat on the sunny side of a thick hedge 

 between three and four in the afternoon is almost 

 tropical if you remain still, because the air is motion- 

 less : the only relief is to hold your hat loose ; or 

 tilt it against your head, the other edge of the brim on 



