SHOOTING ON THE WING. 63 



them fluttering on the ground before us, we feel great anxiety 

 as to their fate ; and, fearing lest they might get off, or secrete 

 themselves so that the Dogs can't find them, we can with diffi- 

 culty suppress the strong desire that- naturally rises in our mind 

 to quit our position, before loading, to secure them ; much less, 

 then, can we hope to overcome this impulsive inclination on the 

 part of our Dogs. And the result is that, in spite of repeated 

 castigations, the excited animals will rush after the fluttering 

 Birds, and persist in catching them, in opposition to all our 

 endeavors ; and the consequence is the flushing of one or two 

 laggers, who often remain behind when the coveys spring, and 

 both of which might have been bagged if we had had our piece 

 loaded. Much time is also lost in hunting up v/ounded Birds, 

 to say nothing of the labor and worriment attending it; for we 

 know nothing more provoking than to see a Bird fall and flutter 

 within a few feet of us and not be able to lay our hand upon 

 it. Every Bird, therefore, should be killed dead at from twen- 

 ty-five to thirty paces and under, with a good gun and the pro- 

 per ammunition; we occasionally have knocked Birds down at 

 much greater distances, even as far as fifty, sixty, and seventy 

 paces by actual measurement; but we esteem all such lucky 

 shots as mere accidents. 



Not only on the score of vexation and trouble should the 

 Sportsman strive to become a clean shot, but for humanity's 

 sake also, as a bungler in this respect will mutilate and abandon 

 to a lingering death more Birds in the course of a day than he 

 will actually bag. A Bird with a broken wing or a torn leg 

 dangling from its body, may live in misery and pain for several 

 days, skulking about solitary and alone, half starved and parch- 

 ed with thirst, and ultimately fall a victim to a prowling Serpent, 

 or be taken off by a Hawk, or some other one of its enemies. 



"As glory more than gain allures the brave 

 To dare the combat loud or louder ware, 

 So the ambition of the Sportsman lies 

 More in the certain shot than bleeding prize ; 

 While Poachers, mindful of the festal hour, 

 Among the covey random slaughter pour, 

 And as their number press the crimsoned ground. 

 Regardless reck not of the secret wound, 



