222 The Amateur Poacher 



graceful lines of the pine brought out by the snow, 

 the hills yonder, and the stars rising above them ! 



It was on just such a night as this that some 

 years since a most successful raid was made upon this 

 wood by a band of poachers coming from a distance. 

 The pheasants had been kept later than usual to be 

 shot by a Christmas party, and perhaps this had 

 caused a relaxation of vigilance. The band came in 

 a cart of some kind ; the marks of the wheels were 

 found on the snow where it had been driven off the 

 highway and across a field to some ricks. There, no 

 doubt, the horse and cart were kept out of sight be- 

 hind the ricks, while the men, who were believed to 

 have worn smock-frocks, entered the wood. 



The bright moonlight made it easy to find the 

 pheasants, and they were potted in plenty. Finding 

 that there was no opposition, the gang crossed from 

 the wood to some outlying plantations and continued 

 their work there. The keeper never heard a sound. 

 He was an old man — a man who had been on the 

 estate all his life — and had come in late in the evening 

 after a long round. He sat by the fire of split logs 

 and enjoyed the warmth after the bitter cold and 

 frost ; and as he himself confessed, took an extra 

 glass in consideration of the severity of the weather. 



His wife was old and deaf. Neither of them heard 



