BLACKCOCK SHOOTING 105 



to my own devices, to amuse myself as best I could. 

 Twelve o'clock had come and gone, and the 

 weather showed no sign of improvement. A thin, 

 drizzling rain descended gently, yet steadily. The 

 moor steamed with the evaporating moisture, and 

 the birch trees dripped heavily at every sough of 

 wind. There were no Grouse crowing, and the 

 ■outlook was dreary in the extreme. The few 

 Blackgame that haunted the moor by day and 

 roosted in the plantations near the house were not 

 numerous enough to make it worth while to 

 organise a big drive, and yet there was a possi- 

 bility for a single gun, with luck, to get a shot or 

 two by stratagem. Rather than stay indoors all 

 day, I resolved to try it, and, flinging on an old 

 shooting cape, sallied forth with two beaters. The 

 state of the weather was such that it seemed likely 

 the Blackgame would be sheltering in the woods, 

 and the plan of campaign was soon settled. The 

 most promising beat was a wooded ravine not far 

 from the house, where the covert sloped down on 

 either side to a burn, which debouched upon an 

 open glade in which stood a big ash tree. My 

 plan was to send the two beaters round to the far 

 end of the wood, which they were to enter on 

 opposite sides of the burn, and beat slowly towards 

 the bie ash tree, behind which I had elected to 

 stand. It seemed to me that a Blackcock, on 

 whichever side of the burn he might be found, 

 would probably fly straight down the ravine 

 towards the open moor, and would thus have to 

 pass me on the way. At all events, this seemed 



