308 SHOOTING 



birds. Partridges are thorough Tories, and like to 

 take the same line that their fathers before them 

 did, so it is useless to try to drive them far out of it. 



Presently, as you are looking through the screen, 

 a dark object comes into view that appears rather 

 like a bumble bee ; in another second you perceive 

 it is an old cock French partridge, when, just as you 

 are in the act of firing, down drops the bird, and 

 commences running like a racehorse. Naturally 

 you bring your gun down, but the old loader 

 wiiispers, " Shoot un, sir, shoot un ; he be the 

 blarmed old cock, and mayhap, if you kills un, 

 t'others will be obliged to fly ; " so you pot him, and 

 the cloud of feathers that comes out is wonderful. 

 A novice would think that it was blown to bits ; 

 but the fact is, nothing of the kind has happened, 

 the cloud being caused by the great thickness of 

 plumage. It is very curious to shoot one in snow : 

 the stream of feathers lying on it looks as if a small 

 pillow had been ripped open. 



Soon a distant cry of " Mark over ! " showing 

 that a covey has risen and is coming right for the 

 stands, puts every one on the qui vive. Here they 

 come straight for the man on the right, and you 

 feel almost inclined to envy his chance, when sud- 

 denly the covey mount straight up like so many 

 sky-rockets ; your friend, fresh to the sport, has 



