* The Park * 113 



filled the hollow with his cries when the shot broke 

 his hindquarters, till the dog had him. Jays came in 

 couples, and green woodpeckers singly : the magpies 

 cunningly flew aside instead of straight ahead ; they 

 never could do anything straightforward. A stoat 

 peeped out, but went back directly when a rabbit 

 whose retreat had been cut off bolted over his most 

 insidious enemy. Every now and then Dickon's 

 shot when he fired high cut the twigs out of the ash 

 by me. Then came the distant noise of the beaters' 

 sticks, and the pheasants, at last thoroughly disturbed, 

 flew out in twos and threes at a time. Now the firing 

 grew fierce, and the roll of the volleys ceaseless. It 

 was impossible to jam the cartridges fast enough in 

 the breech. 



A subtle flavour of sulphur filled the mouth, and 

 the lips became dry. Sunshine and gleaming leaves 

 and sky and grass seemed to all disappear in the fever 

 of the moment. The gun burned the hands, all 

 blackened by the powder ; the metal got hotter and 

 hotter ; the sward was poached and trampled and 

 dotted with cases ; shot hissed through the air and 

 pattered in showers on the opposite plantation ; the 

 eyes, bleared and bloodshot with the smoke, could 

 scarce see to point the tube. Pheasants fell, and no 

 one heeded ; pheasants escaped, and none noticed 



J 



