62 TEN YEARS OF GAME-KEEPING 



approach. He fired point-blank into their midst, 

 and churned up a terrific cloud of dust. So soon 

 as he was able to see anything, he saw that he 

 had bagged the whole covey sixteen. He picked 

 up the birds and put them into his pockets, where 

 they all revived. None had been hit by the shot. 

 They were blinded by the dust. 



The parson, on starting out one day to walk up 

 partridges, made a vow in the form of a bet that 

 he would bag the first bird he saw. One was soon 

 seen, but far out of shot. In the recklessness of 

 his despair at the prospect of losing the bet, he 

 loosed off. The bird, of course unscathed, flew 

 on, but straight into the wall of a cottage. It 

 was picked up, duly bagged, and the bet was won. 

 The keeper's story is that he, having been ordered 

 to get three brace of partridges for the ' house, ' had 

 failed utterly, owing to the birds' wildness. He 

 was a useful shot at walked-up birds, but simply 

 could not look at them when driven ; in fact, he 

 never had hit a driven bird. However, after he 

 and two under-keepers had tramped in vain for 

 the best part of a day, it was resolved that they 

 could not fare worse by trying a drive. So the 

 keeper stationed himself behind a thick hedge, 

 while the other two acted as drivers. Soon that 

 sweet rumbling as of distant thunder told him 

 that a good covey had been flushed. With his 

 heart beating like a muffled drum, he listened to 



