SCIENCE OF FOXHUNTING. 419 



crows, magpies, and jays continually hovering over 

 the ground. Rooks innumerable, of which we take 

 no notice ; but from seven hen turkeys, invariably 

 making their nests and laying their eggs in the 

 heather, we have not lost seven eggs. This is not 

 all. Within fifty yards of our penning there were 

 hatched out this last summer two coveys of par- 

 tridges. Now some sceptics will exclaim, " How can 

 these things be ?" They are facts. The bit of 

 netting, with our red pennon waving with the wind, 

 scares away the fox the midnight robber and the 

 gleam of our gun-barrel in the sun warns the birds 

 of prey Procul, oh procul, este profani ! We never 

 set traps or lay poison for any of these obnoxious 

 vermin. On the contrary, we watch with pleasure 

 and admiration the graceful evolutions in the air of 

 three, four, or five large kites, wheeling, screaming, 

 and sometimes swooping down within a few yards of 

 our proteges ; yet we do not send the bullet hurtling 

 through the air to their destruction. The barrel is 

 raised aloof to warn them that this is forbidden 

 fruit and forbidden ground, and that warning proves 

 sufficient. Crows are more impudent, and we are 

 occasionally under the necessity of riddling their 

 jackets for a too near approach. 



Ravens, like foxes, are very wary, and, although 

 continually flying and croaking over the moor, have 

 never done us any harm. Now, if one man, with 

 a paddle much oftener in his hand than a gun, can 

 thus protect young poultry and game from the 

 depredations of these beasts and birds of prey per- 

 petually crossing this tract of land, how is it that a 



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