218 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING. 
Off it came, as a matter of course, so that he had no 
covering on his shoulders but a flannel shirt. 
* All together, and with a will!” said one of the party. 
**No mercy!” 
The culprit’s back was then pressed and rubbed against 
the tree as hard as we could do it, and though he bore 
the punishment with the fortitude of a martyr, I was 
scarcely able to breathe, with laughter, and was so weak 
that I fear I did not afford much assistance in punishing 
him. They kept at him until they must have rubbed 
the skin nearly off, and then let him go, after giving him 
a sound lecture on the misfortune he had brought upon 
the party by missing the first bird. He received the 
reprimand in silence, and, having seized his gun, re- 
sumed work as calmly as if nothing had happened. I 
was so delighted at having escaped the punishment I de- 
served that I laughed until I was weary. This seemed 
to arouse his suspicion, for he eyed me mistrustfully sev- 
eral times, and finally blurted out: 
“Gol durn me if I don’t think you fired at a bird 
and missed it. If I thought you did, I’d help to give 
you such a scratching that you’d think you were ten 
thousand Scotchmen rolled intoone. I’d teach you what 
it is to have the feeling of being branded with a red hot 
iron.” I pooh-poohed the idea of missing, but I did not, 
evidently, dispel his doubts, as he reiterated his suspicion, 
and also complained of a burning sensation in his back, 
as if the skin had been rubbed off. When we had walked 
about half a mile, one of the party suggested that we 
form into two groups and beat the ground carefully, one 
keeping to the leeward of the bottoms and the other to 
the windward. We accordingly-separated, the scratched 
individual and myself going together. We chose the 
windward side, as we knew that the two pointers which 
formed our kennel would work up wind and drive all the 
birds out on our side, and therefore give us the best 
