COVERT-SHOOTING. 125 



with the beaters, I heard him blazing away freely ; 

 and when I came up to him I looked round the open 

 field in which he was standing, and seeing no sign of 

 the slain turned an inquiring glance towards him. 

 ** Oh, yes !" he eagerly answered, " I've killed a lot of 

 them. But it's very odd, they all went on ; but they'll 

 find them in the next field. Look here ! and here ! 

 fancy going on after that ! " he cried, as he gathered 

 up a handfid of fur from the grass and held it up in 

 triumph. I said nothing, but silence is eloquent 

 sometimes ; I was overwhelmed with horror. For 

 myself, if I wound a hare and do not recover it, I am 

 wretched all that day. And here he was, calm and 

 even exultant, either unaware of the hideous cruelty 

 he had been committing, or else utterly callous to the 

 sufferings he had inflicted. It was revolting. This 

 monster, against whose name in the game book I put 

 the blackest of marks, was otherwise a kindly-disposed 

 and apparently civilise d being, sane and reasonable in 

 behaviour except out shooting, where he never ought 

 to be allowed to go, and where, I maintain, no one 



