68 AN ENGLISH GAMEKEEPER. 



"Something," was all I could say, again, 

 dubiously staring at the tree, or feeling the 

 ground, all the while. 



" What was it you shot at? " insisted father. 



"I don't know." 



" Well, what was it like ? " 



Then I told them how it jumped here and 

 there, and appeared and disappeared, all around 

 me ; whereupon my father up with his hand, 

 and gave me a heavy clout over the side of 

 my head. 



" You cracky," he raved. " You shot at the 

 shadow of the moon ; now you've spoilt the job 

 entirely." 



So he took up the snares and we all went 

 home, he grumbling and growling all the way, 

 and I was very glad to get to bed out of his 

 sight, I can tell you. 



Next morning, Dick and I went to examine 

 the place by daylight to see if we could find 

 any trace of what I had shot at ; needless to 

 say, we searched in vain, I could see that I had 

 shot just were the thing was, for there were the 

 marks in the tree. I think it must have been 



