XXIII 



WOODCOCK IN IRELAND 

 1896 



" TF we could only get some snow on those mountains " was 

 J- the wish expressed nightly as we took our candlesticks 

 to retire to roost. It was December in Southern Ireland, and 

 we were keen after woodcock. The most charming and favour- 

 ably situated coverts and woods were there in abundance, offer- 

 ing seductive seclusion and undisturbed midday rest to those 

 most "sporting" of birds, which indeed were in the country, 

 but scattered among the heather all over the mountains. We 

 wanted snow and frost instead of the usual warm, wet, wetter, 

 wettest weather that had prevailed hitherto, which made even 

 the trees look wet through, and drove with its perpetual " drip " 

 all birds out of the woods. Snow from the mountain-tops to 

 the upper fringe of the coverts on their slopes was required, 

 and earnestly wished for, to concentrate the birds into the 

 bush, but none came, alas ! until the very day we had to leave. 

 Hard fate ! and harder still, for the same thing had happened 

 two years ago. As our train ran northward among those snow- 

 capped mountains, we looked longingly at the coverts and 

 thought of the shivering cock crowded there together for warmth, 

 and bemoaned our luck that we should no more hear the beater's 

 "hi! cocky-cock-cock!!" or see the glorious birds flash like 

 lightening across the all too narrow rides, or dart, the vision 

 of a moment, among the trees and bushes. To walk gun in 

 hand along these rides on the mountain-side while the men 

 are beating the woods is most enjoyable, especially on clear, 

 frosty mornings, which, however, were few and far between. 

 The foot sinks deeply into the soft carpet of bright green moss 



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