26 WARWICK WOODLANDS. 



village, Tom Draw pulled down a set of bars to the left, 

 and strode out manfully into the stubble. 



"Hold up, good lads! — whe-ew — whewt!" and away 

 went the setters through the moist stubble, heads up and 

 stems down, like fox-hounds on a breast-high scent, yet 

 under the most perfect discipline; for at the vei'y first 

 note of Harry's whistle, even when racing at the top of 

 their pace, they would turn simultaneously, alter their 

 course, cross each other at right angles, and quarter the 

 whole field, leaving no foot of ground unbeaten. 



No game, however, in this instance, rewarded their ex- 

 ertions; and on we went across a meadow, and two other 

 stubbles, with the like result. But now we crossed a gen- 

 tle hill, and, at its base, came on a level tract, containing 

 at the most ten acres of marsh land, overgi-own with high 

 coarse grass and flags. Beyond this, on the right, was a 

 steep rocky hillock, covered with tall and thrifty timber of 

 some thirty years' growth, but wholly free from under- 

 wood. Along the left-hand fence ran a thick belt of un- 

 derwood, sumach and birch, with a few young oak trees 

 interspersed; but in the middle of the swampy level, cov- 

 ering at most some five or six acres, was a dense circular 

 thicket composed of every sort of thorny bush and shrub, 

 matted with cat-briers and wild vines, and overshadowed 

 by a clump of tall and leafy ashes, which had not as ye;t 

 lost one atom of their foliage, although the underwood be- 

 neath them was quite sere and leafless. 



"Now then," cried Harry, "this is the 'Squire's swam^ - 

 hole!' Now for a dozen cock! hey, Tom? Here, couple 

 up the setters, Tim; and let the spaniels loose. Now 

 Flash! now Dan! down charge, you little villains!" and 

 the well broke brutes dropped on the instant. "How must 

 we beat this cursed hole?" 



"You must go through the very thick of it, concarn 

 you!" exclaimed Tom; "at your old work already, hey? 

 trying to shirk at first !" 



"Don't swear so! you old reprobate! I know my place, 

 depend on it," cried Archer; "but what to do with the 

 rest of you! — there's the rub!" 



"Not a bit of it," cried Tom— "here, Yorkshire— Duck- 

 legs — here, what's your name — get away you with those 

 big dogs — atwixt the swamp hole, and the brush there by 

 the fence, and look out that you mark every bird to an 



