CH. XXVIII. DISGUISED POACHERS. 131 



They seem to feel more security with an open 

 expanse around them than in any kind of conceal- 

 ment. The whole covey sits crouched in a space 

 that might almost be covered with a hat, so closely 

 are they huddled together. After having made 

 their evening meal in the stubbles, which they 

 always do, in the autumn and winter, between the 

 hours of three and five, the old birds call their 

 brood and collect them together ; they then fly off 

 to some grass field or other very bare ground, and 

 having run about, apparently in play, for a little 

 while, as soon as the light begins to fail, they 

 fly ofi* to some favourite spot in the field, and 

 huddling up together in a furrow, take up their 

 quarters for the night. Unluckily all this is done 

 with a great deal of noise ; the birds constantly 

 calling to, and answering each other, and running 

 to and fro with their heads most conspicuously erect, 

 thus plainly showing the netting-poacher, who is 

 sure to be on the look-out, where he may expect the 

 best luck during the night. While this work is being 

 carried on, you may see some fellow, often dressed 

 more like a schoolmaster than a poacher, lounging 

 listlessly about the lanes, leaning against the gates 

 and smoking his pipe. You never suspect that any 

 sporting propensities can be concealed under the 

 high- crowned beaver and swallow-tailed coat of 



