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 grev/ 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 



