CHAPTER IX. 

 "A GRAN' SHOT!" 



ELL, I had vacation on the day following my successful inter- 

 view with the two stags on the windy hillside. There was no 

 let-up in the program of wind and rain, but I met it on a 

 different level this time, because I went out on the moors for grouse 

 and black cock. 



We had a good day of shooting; not a big bag, I think about twenty 

 brace all told fell to my shooting partner and myself. Among the 

 birds were several black cock, magnificently plumaged individuals, 

 whose dark green, almost black feathers had the irridescence of pea- 

 cock copper. We had a pointer and a setter, but they did not work 

 very well. A retriever was of more use; he succeeded in finding our 

 down birds without difficulty. 



We encountered a few rabbits during the day and my companion 

 disposed of all that moved within range of him. It was different 

 with me. I missed those fortunate individuals which broke cover in 

 my vicinity with a regularity as consistent as it was annoying. I 

 had not shot rabbits since they formed my chief quarry in the Middle 

 West during my boyhood, and had lost the knack. I discovered later 

 that the reason I was missing was because I was too slow, and as the 

 further and related cause I was stopping the gun in its swing just 

 before I pulled the trigger. Naturally I shot behind the bunnies 

 exactly enough to miss them. 



The next day was Saturday. The Admiral had come to take the 

 place of the Captain, and the Man of the Sea stayed to stalk while 

 the Chief, the Warrior and I, well wrapped up to resist the chill wind 

 which still came, rain-laden, boarded the little "Fiat" for a run to 

 Balnagown Castle, fifty-eight miles away. 



We spun along right merrily for about eighteen miles and for my 

 part I was so glad and comfortable that I lifted up my voice in song, 

 harking back to coon shouts I had known and old college choruses. 



