116 



FIELD SHOOTING. 



his neck stretched up. This is their habit when 

 they take to trees, and they are not easily distin- 

 guished from knots. 1 knew their habits, and 

 had good eyes. That day I had played truant 

 from school,, and, taking my father's old firelock, I 

 went out to hunt. The greater part of the day 

 was gone before 1 got one of the birds I saw in a 

 proper sitting position. However,, there he was at 

 last, and as I was too small to hold the musket 

 out and take aim from the shoulder alone, I 

 steadied it against the bole of another tree. Bang 

 she went, and down came the grouse, but only 

 winged. There was snow on the ground, and, boy- 

 like, I dropped the old musket into it, and went 

 for the wounded grouse. The ground was a steep 

 hillside, the bird fluttered down it, and I went 

 after, tumbling and rolling for as much as a hun- 

 dred yards. But I secured it at last, and thinking 

 it was glory enough for one day, as the saying is, 

 I recovered the old musket and returned home. 

 The truancy was condoned because of the bird. 

 After that I hunted every time I could get a 

 chance to do so. I soon got hold of a single-bar- 

 relled gun with a percussion-lock, and by perse- 

 verance for some time learned to shoot on the 

 wing. Paul was a great woodcock-shooter, and 



