i8 A MONOGRAPH OF THE PHEASANTS 



" The spaniel has meantime rushed down to us, noses the bird near my feet, and then 

 her eyes follow me. She hears the crash below and is off. I tell the native to follow, as 

 it is far down, and the bird is large for her to carry ; but she appears again in a few 

 minutes and lays the bird at my feet, and then lies panting and wagging her tail. I 

 whistle for the native and he returns, and picking up the birds makes his way after me, 

 scrambling up the torrent bed. On reaching the place where the birds rose, I again 

 wave the spaniel forward ; she dashes hither and thither for a minute and is then off 

 again towards the crest, and very soon there is another yap, yap, and I get a glimpse of 

 a bird topping the trees and then just time for a snap as he swishes past me, this time 

 between the trees. I cannot hear or see any result, but will look later, as the spaniel, 

 instead of returning to me, remains above, giving a harsh woof every few seconds. 



" I know what that means well enough. One of the birds is sitting on the lower 

 branches of a tree, probably wondering why this funny-looking new sort of jackal is 

 behaving in such an unusual manner, and thinking everything is not as it should be, 

 makes up his mind to join his companions below. I am warned by a flutter and the 

 change in the dog's voice, but before I can get myself into position to shoot, the bird is 

 past me and goes on its way rejoicing. 



" Now, although it is a long way back, I do not like leaving the bird I shot at 

 without having a look round where he might have fallen, as I was pretty certain I was 

 on him when I pulled the trigger ; so down we go again, but all we find are two or 

 three feathers, so we conclude that probably, if he fell at all, it was far down in the valley 

 below, and I console myself by thinking if he is badly wounded he will make a good 

 meal for some jackal to-night, and not be left long to linger in pain. The sun must be 

 up by this time, but we cannot tell for certain here, as the nullah is on the north side of 

 the ridge. We make our way over a ridge, intending to enter the next small nullah, 

 scarcely hoping now to hear birds calling, as the time for this is nearly over. However, 

 we are pleasantly surprised, and are soon off after another ' snide,' fortunately in a 

 splendid place — a small plateau covered with bushes, overhung by an almost 

 perpendicular piece of khud. 



"On coming below the plateau, I rest a minute for breath, and then push on, waving 

 the little dog forward. These birds have evidently been running about all over the place, 

 feeding, and the spaniel clearly shows by her flashing stern and eager movements that 

 scent is abundant, but she finds a difficulty in hitting off the line. The next second she 

 stops dead before a bush, looking over her shoulder at me, and at my nod dashes in, and 

 out bundles a young Koklass, which, rising ten yards from me, makes off, but gets no 

 further than the edge of the plateau, probably as easy a shot as one ever gets at a 

 Koklass. 



"The faithful spaniel retrieves the bird and then returns to the bushes, and after 

 some feathering around, strikes a line for the steep khud side. Up and up she bounds, 

 never missing her footing and never faltering. Now she is lost from view, but a second 

 or two later her voice is heard, and almost at once out hurry three birds ; the first shot 

 crumples up one as he comes towards me, the second is nearly overhead as I fire, and he 

 goes on apparently unscathed. We clamber up by a circuitous route and arrive at the 

 top of the ridge again, and sit there for a minute wondering which will be the best way 

 to go now, as the sun is well up, and there is no chance of hearing any more birds calling. 



