32 TEN YEARS OF GAME-KEEPING 
a rabbit which I happened to have in my pocket to 
the shepherd, and each of us went his way rejoicing. 
Probably my experience of the previous night 
accounted for my getting some sleep during the 
night immediately preceding the second day of 
September. The hour for meeting the guns was 
10.30, but long before then I was ready and waiting, 
my boots brushed till their polish began to depre- 
ciate, and my box-cloth gaiters spotless. I had 
with me, to help, a sport-loving farm-hand, who had 
been my colleague through the winter while ferret- 
ing rabbits. He was as good a hand at marking 
the fall of a bird as it has been my lot to meet. 
Each of us had a partridge-carrier, which we hoped 
to fill, and I had the only dog I possessed, a young 
rough-curly retriever, trained to the stage when, 
though useful, she was still much too inclined to 
amuse herself with hares and rabbits, and in other 
uncertain ways. I kept her in tow by a rope round 
my waist, so that if she ‘went’ she had to take me 
with her. Well, to cut a long story short, the guns 
arrived on the late side of 10.30, as is often the 
way of guns who drive while the keeper walks. 
Not having been accustomed to the regulation 
method of salute, I lifted my cap nearly off my 
head, which, since there was no intimation to the 
contrary, I suppose was appreciated. And there 
was an ominous pause preceding the ‘sir’ when I 
returned the individual ‘Good-mornings.’ However, 
