28 TEN YEARS OF GAME-KEEPING 



on a thistle-stem ; the passage of a rat from one 

 rick to another; the call of peewits; the rush of 

 a hurrying hare there were dozens of sounds 

 which by day would have passed unheeded, but 

 then were absurdly magnified and garbled by my 

 straining ears. 



Once, while I was sheltering by a heap of straw 

 on the edge of an old cartway, I felt certain that 

 I could hear the crunching sound of men's feet 

 coming toward me. By Jove! didn't my heart 

 thump. But no partridge-netters came to break 

 the dreariness of that dark, cheerless night. I 

 never discovered the cause of my disappointment, 

 though to this day I am sure I heard the stealthy 

 tramp of human feet, possibly the ghostly feet of 

 dead poachers. And so for that night passed the 

 sole prospect of covering myself with glory and 

 bespattered brains, and, incidentally, of getting 

 warm. Morning seemed as if it never were coming. 

 Long ago I had eaten the last crumb of food, and 

 felt I would have paid a premium price for the top 

 of a loaf. At least two solid supplementary meals 

 are required to carry one through a night. As 

 there was now no likelihood of netters for whom, 

 to tell the honest truth, I had become quite sick of 

 waiting I sought shelter and less cold by crouching 

 against the lee-side of a corn-rick. But everything 

 was dripping wet, and the wind seemed to be 

 playing a game of blind-man's buff round that rick ; 



