SHOOTING NEAR BOPPART. 257 



it shut its eyes when it fired, or whether the enemy was 

 too far distant ; but somehow or other we killed nothing, not 

 even one of the dogs, which surprised me. Whether that 

 hybrid cur, who, placing his tail between his legs, went 

 straight home across country, enlivening his route with the 

 most dismal howls, had received a portion of the rolling fire 

 intended for the partridges, or was merely disgusted with 

 our style of shooting, I cannot say; but off he went, and 

 fortunately for him, and perhaps ourselves, we saw no more 

 of him. 



The covey having departed, the singing recommenced. 

 The birds were scarce and very wild, which was not extra- 

 ordinary, considering the noise we made, yet still, by steadily 

 firing volleys, one came down now and then, which occasioned 

 an infinity of squabbling as to whom its death was to be 

 attributed, though merely a fraction of the original partridge 

 generally came to hand, the rest having been devoured by 

 some of the dogs, or scattered into air by the united charges 

 it had received. 



I got rather fatigued, not to say alarmed, at this kind of 

 . sport, and hinted to Herr Gogel that the best thing we 

 could do would be to steal away from our companions, and 

 try and get a little sport on our own account, which object 

 we managed to accomplish, and leaving our friends, whose 

 passage over the plain was marked by fire and smoke, we 

 managed to pick up a few hares and birds, but the heat soon 

 became so intense that we were regularly brought to a stand- 

 still. My fat friend threw himself upon the ground, and I 

 laid myself beside him, in order, if possible, to get a little of 

 his shadow. 



Here we waited for the approach of our friends, whose 

 advent was heralded from afar by the same firing and 

 singing as when we left them, and in a few minutes we 

 were re-united, discussing the remains of the breakfast and 



8 



