A Sportsman at Large 87 



death. At last I figured that a quick descent to the left 

 would bring me direct to the Cator homestead ; but I had 

 to grope and stumble my way ; for, burdened as I was with 

 my gun and the " dead meat," with which it had afflicted 

 me, my progress was extremely slow and painful. At last 

 I reached a point where I expected to strike the road ; but 

 no road was there ! I turned in all directions, but my feet 

 touched nothing but heather, fern, gorse or stone. A sudden 

 horror overwhelmed me. I did not know where I was ! I 

 was utterly lost on Dartmoor on a bitter and stormy November 

 night. My strength already exhausted, and my nerve 

 shattered ! What was I to do ? I thought that Cockie's 

 instinct might urge him to give me a lead that would bring 

 me to the friendly farm, the cheery peat fire, the goodly fare 

 (I was desperately hungry) and the beloved family circle ; 

 but the little dog was as disgruntled as his master, and only 

 crouched nearer my heels, whimpering and shivering miser- 

 ably. 



Then came a brain wave. I would fire my gun as an S.O.S. 

 signal. " I cannot be very far out of my reckoning," I 

 informed myself. '' They will hear it and come to our aid." 

 No sooner thought of than done ; but on searching my 

 cartridge belt I found to my dismay that I had only three 

 shells left. I had withdrawn two of them when I took shelter 

 from the storm, and now they were wet and sodden. I forced 

 them into the breech, and fired my first signal. The report 

 echoed and re-echoed among the hills, and then there was 

 silence, save for the swish of the rain on the bracken and the 

 fitful sighing of the wind. I wasted fully ten minutes, which 

 seemed like as many hours. There was no response. Then 

 again my weapon spoke. Hardly had its reverberations 

 petered out than there came a responsive report, apparently 

 some half-mile away. My heart leaped with joy and thanks- 

 giving. With trembling fingers I essayed to extract the 

 spent cases and to insert my one remaining cartridge, but 

 to my horror they refused to budge from the breech. I 

 produced my sportsman's knife and tried to prize them out, 

 but only succeeded in parting the metal caps from the sodden 

 cases. 



