158 BIRD LIFE IN ENGLAND. 



brightness comes over the sky the clouds tear apart in the 

 southward, and soon sun and shower are coursing alternately 

 over the meadows, beautiful in their mellow browns and 

 greens. Away we rattle through the park, deerstalking caps 

 drawn down, and collars turned up to our ears, the horses 

 fresh and frolicsome, dancing and tossing their heads, their 

 bits rattling, and bright gold trappings jingling gaily as we 

 fly down the smooth gravel roadway ; through the " chase " 

 towards the first of the woods to be beaten. It is not far, 

 and in twenty minutes we turn up a shady lane, ducking our 

 heads occasionally to avoid the acorn-loaded boughs of the 

 thick hedge-row oaks, and arrive on the outskirts of a wide 

 tract of undulating woodland, broken into by patches of 

 cultivated ground. We take our guns, order the luncheon 

 cart to meet us at midday, and join the party of beaters 

 coming down a " drive '* in tail of the head keeper. The 

 latter is despondent but alert. He touches his hat in obvious 

 pleasure to see us out, but can give us only small hope of 

 sport. It is raining again now, and we have the additional 

 discomfort of drip from the trees ; but we pull down our caps, 

 and securing every button of our waterproofs, determine to 

 face our luck. The first stands are in a disused and moss- 

 grown roadway, the beaters swinging round and beating 

 back to us through a long strip of gorse, fern, and scattered 

 beech bushes. Tap, tap, go the sticks on the wet shrubs, 

 doubtless bringing down upon the luckless beaters, showers 

 of moisture at every blow, while we, hardly better off, keep 

 running a finger along the midribs of our guns, to free them 

 from big drops which continually accumulate there. Little 

 stirs for a time save a blackbird or two, and we stamp about 

 somewhat impatiently, for we are cold and benumbed about 

 the hands ; yet we know there are pheasants and rabbits 

 afoot, for we hear an occasional shout, with renewed tree- 

 tapping, as the men keep the quarry from breaking back. 

 Slowly the game is driven down to the end of the strip, 

 where we know there is work for us. A couple of thrushes 



