Farmer Wilhinis Place 179 



the tips of the rushes were dead. Red haws on the 

 hawthorn and hips on the briar sprinkled the hedge 

 with bright spots of colour. 



The two spaniels went with such an eager rush 

 into a thick double-mound, dashing heedlessly through 

 the nettles and under the brambles, that we hastened 

 to get one on each side of the hedge. A rustling — • 

 a short bark ; another, then a movement among the 

 rushes in the ditch, evidently not made by the dogs ; 

 then a silence. But the dogs come back, and as they 

 give tongue the rabbit rushes past a bare spot on the 

 slope of the bank. I fire — a snap shot — and cut out 

 some fur, but do no further harm ; the pellets bury 

 themselves in the earth. But, startled and perhaps just 

 stung by a stray shot, the rabbit bolts fairly at last 

 twenty yards in front of Orion, the spaniel tearing at 

 his heels. 



Up goes the double-barrel with a bright gleam as 

 the sunlight glances on it. A second of suspense : 

 then from the black muzzle darts a cylinder of tawny 

 flame and an opening cone of white smoke : a sharp 

 report rings on the ear. The rabbit rolls over and 

 over, and is dead before the dog can seize him. After 

 barling the rabbit, Orion hangs him high on a pro- 

 jecting branch, so that the man who is following us 

 at a distance may easily find the game. He is a 



