i6o ROUND THE BOUNDARIES 



in the rushy field, and off go the dogs in 

 pursuit. As master scrambles up the bank 

 he meets puss almost face to face, turning 

 her sideways, when she gives a safe shot 

 and rolls over. 



Then for a lonor time nothinor is done, 

 conscientiously, as a series of gorsy grass 

 fields, borderinor a huoe wood, are worked 

 out. They hold nothing but rabbits. The 

 sportsmen pass between two well-stocked 

 coverts (of the keeper's own) and strike the 

 high road. Here the shooting is only a 

 strip of grass, but the dogs feather and 

 scramble through the hedge. Forty yards 

 on they put up a cock pheasant, who, rising 

 and gathering height and way, comes best 

 speed for his sanctuary — the covert. A 

 sporting shot, and well killed, as the thump 

 on the ground attests. 



