EOUGH SHOOTING. 101 



along, and a cry of " Mark, cock ! " followed by 

 a report and a shout of triiimpli, tell the down- 

 fall of the long-hilled migrant. A distant 

 member of his family joins him in the keeper's 

 pocket as we cross some marshy land beyond. 



There is nearly always a snipe in a certain 

 patch of rushes, we are told; several have been 

 killed from it, but another bird always takes the 

 place. And surely enough he gets up just on the 

 spot indicated, and meets a fate which another 

 of his tribe escapes, his sinuous flight saving 

 him. Cries of "Ware hen!" "Rabbit gone 

 in!" "Another hare somewhere near about 

 here, sir ! " now come in chorus, punctuated by 

 the banging of guns. 



Partridges we see, always, however, in the 

 distance, they taking care to keep a good 

 hundred yards between us. Not another is 

 secured the whole day, though the square frame- 

 work inside the cart is being covered with a 

 goodly number of rabbits, their bigger and 

 richer-coloured cousins, the hares, adding variety, 

 while one side of the square formed by the game, 

 as it is hung in the cart, consists entirely of 

 pheasants. On om- way home we pick up 

 another snipe, which rises almost under our feet. 



So ends a fair specimen of a day's rough 

 shooting. 



