114 A GAMEKEEPER'S NOTE-BOOK 



We know a wood near the Hampshire Highlands 



that was once famous for its ash, and would be as 



famous now if the wood's owner had his 

 Tragedy keeper's fine feeling. The keeper's heart 

 of the was cut if frost blackened the leaves ; 

 Wood- this was a grim tragedy. And there were 



larches of gun-barrel straightness. An order 

 was given that the wood should be laid low. The 

 woodmen came with saw and axe, beetle and wedges, 

 they cut all the trees, and sent them to the guillotine 

 of the travelling steam-saw, which spoiled as fair a 

 meadow as any in Hampshire. Next the woodland 

 was thrown open to cattle, horses, and sheep. Then 

 the keeper was dismissed : and glad he was to go. 



* 



When shooting parties begin again strange stories 



are repeated about pheasants and partridges. We 



remember hearing a learned disquisition on 



Fox and the su bj ect o f the fox and the hen partridge ; 

 "anriuge . 



the argument was that the fox is only 



occasionally successful when he makes a grab 

 at a hen partridge sitting on her eggs, and that the 

 hen, after fluttering from the jaws of death, will 

 return unconcernedly to her duties. Further, even 

 if the fox were so lucky as to capture the hen, the 

 cock partridge would most obligingly take up the 

 sitting and hatch the eggs. But no case was cited 

 where a fox had been known to attempt to catch a 



