82 A Sportsman at Large 



One day our party was beating an outlying mire, known 

 to be particularly dangerous. Our farmer-host's lad a boy 

 of twelve was leading our brace of setters on chain, when 

 suddenly all three disappeared, as if the ground had suddenly 

 opened and swallowed them up, and, Faith ! that is exactly 

 what had occurred ! 



The moss-hole was luckily a very circumscribed one, so we 

 were able to get well within reach of the black, bubbling 

 ooze in the middle of the verdant moss. Harry Edwards 

 cast himself flat whilst Irwin and I held on to his feet. Plung- 

 ing his arm into the mosses, my brother-in-law happily got 

 hold of the dog-chain, by aid of which, and our united efforts, 

 we succeeded in dragging dogs and boy to safety. This 

 was the work of a moment, so none was the worse for the 

 immersion, though all three presented a pitiable sight, reeking 

 with black and foetid mire. A dose of whisky administered 

 to the weeping and thoroughly terrified lad quickly put matters 

 right as far as he was concerned, whilst a swim in the Dart 

 was all that was required to restore to the setters their pristine 

 beauty. 



