216 BIED LIFE IN ENGLAND. 



an imprisoned sheep suffering the last stages of exhaustion 

 and starvation, while a curious story exists of a brood of 

 half -grown flappers having been found in another, which 

 they had entered along with their mother when very small, 

 and, not possessing her powers of flight, had been unable to 

 leave it ; a little water in one corner and a few casual 

 insects, we must suppose, supporting life in this novel open- 

 air pen. For this region of dyke and pit we were soon em- 

 barked in a regular Highland skiff, impelled by the keeper's 

 sturdy arms (the gillie who cannot row and doesn't look 

 upon the water as a legitimate part of his territory is of 

 little use on this side of the country) ; ten minutes and the 

 peat banks of the opposite shore are over our prow, the bare 

 wiry stems of the heather making tracery against the sky 

 and looking like cotton plants in pod, with their weight of 

 snow and rime. Donald shoves our bows between two rocks 

 and deftly scrambles ashore with the rope to make it fast ; 

 but almost immediately crouches down, and we hear the 

 mellow quack of a mallard which rises through the air from 

 a pool within easy shot, but goes away unhurt, as, of course, 

 we are not loaded. This quickens our expectations of sport, 

 and we are soon landed, collars up, guns under arms, and 

 ready for the march. 



A snipe is the first bird to fall to the laird's gun, another 

 getting up to the shot for me and dropping to the right-hand 

 barrel. This is decidedly cheering, and we plod along 

 enthusiastically over the crisp herbage, the dog sniffing about 

 ahead, but being rather heavily handicapped by the stiff 

 going for a time until we reach better ground. Some of the 

 long-bills rise wild at a couple of hundred yards or more from 

 us and sweep away to the southward like brown leaves in 

 a gale, picking up as they go others of their species, and 

 this irritates my companion, who scolds " Snap " for what 

 is not his fault ; but we get chances now and again which 

 throw a rosier light over the proceedings. 



An hour's trudge brings us to the foot of the first sheet 



