30 TEN YEARS OF GAME-KEEPING 
all sorts of fine bags; for, not unnaturally, I judged 
the result of their blazing by a flattering standard. 
It never dawned on me but that each supposed 
covey rose at the toes of the shooters, that each 
of them scored a double, and that each volley 
meant several brace in.the bag. My curiosity grew 
apace, and it was not long before I found myself 
in a gap in a boundary fence, from which I was 
able, much to my relief, to burst my bubble notions 
of the next-door bag. Each bird that rose was 
saluted by a double shot, apparently from any of 
the party who saw it, and quite irrespective of 
range; and I doubt not that it would have met 
with the same indignity if seen on the ground. 
Fortunately, these people were not only bad sports- 
men, but bad shots—a detestable combination. 
There was another feature in their plan of cam- 
paign which quickly attracted my attention—their 
dogs, one of which struck me as—well, unusual, 
to say the least of it. But I was unable to solve 
the mystery of this dog till the party worked round 
the outside turn nearest the boundary. A hare got 
up as the line was wheeling in a very go-as-you- 
please formation, but, as the gunners were caught 
napping, did not receive their united attention till 
it was a good seventy or eighty yards distant, end 
on. The hare went on. Whereupon, to my intense 
surprise, the unusual-looking dog was loosed— 
a pot-house lurcher. How my blood boiled! how 
