WARWICK WOODLANDS. 27 



inch ! You, Mr. Forester, go in there, under that butter- 

 nut; you'll find a blind track there, right through the 

 brush — keep that 'twixt Tim and Mr. Archer; and keep 

 your eyes skinned, do! there'll be a cock up before you're 

 ten yards in. Archer, you'll go right through and I'll " 



"You'll keep well forward on the right — and mind that 

 no bird crosses to the hill; we never get them, if th§y 

 once get over. All right ! In with you now ! Steady, 

 Flash ! steady ! hie up, Dan !" and in a moment Plarry 

 was out of sight among the brush-wood, though his pro- 

 gress might be traced by the continual crackling of the 

 thick underwood. 



Scarce had I passed the butter-nut, when, even as Tom 

 had said, up flapped a woodcock scarcely ten yards before 

 me, in the open path, and rising heavily to clear the 

 branches of a tall thorn bush, showed me his full black 

 eye, and tawny breast, as fair a shot as could be fancied. 



"Mark!" holloaed Harry to my right, his quick ear 

 having caught the flap of the bird's wing, as he I'ose. 

 "Mark cock—Frank!" 



Well — steadily enough, as I thought, I pitched my gun 

 up ! covered my bird fairly ! pulled ! — the trigger gave not 

 to my finger. I tried the other. Devil's in it, I had for- 

 got to cock my gun! and ere I could retrieve my error, 

 the bird had topped the bush, and dodged out of sight, 

 and off — "Mark ! mark ! — Tim !" I shouted. 



"Ey ! ey ! sur — Ay see's um !" 



"Why, how's that, Frank f cried Harry. Couldn't you 

 get a shot?" 



"Forgot to cock my gun!" I cried; but at the self-same 

 moment the quick sharp yelping of the spaniels came on 

 my ear. "Steady, Flash! steady, sir! Mark!" But close 

 upon the word came the full round report of Harry's gun. 

 "Mark ! again !" shouted Harry, and again his own piece 

 sent its loud ringing voice abroad. "Mark! now a third! 

 mark, Frank!" 



And as he spoke I caught the quick rush of his wing, 

 and saw him dart across a space, a few yards to my right. 

 I felt my hand shake; I had not pulled a trigger in ten 

 months, but in a second's space I rallied. There was an 

 opening just before me between a stumpy thick thorn-bush 

 which had saved the last bird, and a dwarf cedar; it was 

 not two yards over; he glanced across it; he was gone. 



