58 TEN YEARS OF GAME-KEEPING 
attributed largely to their increasing numbers. 
Even as it is easier to approach within range of 
a single wood-pigeon or a feeding rabbit than a 
crowd of either, so is it easier to come within shot 
of small lots of partridges, few and far between, 
with this difference: you are watching the pigeons 
or rabbits, which probably cannot see you, while in 
the pursuit of partridges matters are reversed. This 
comparative tameness of partridges that are few 
goes to show with what discretion shooting should 
be regulated in a bad year. For, by reason of 
their approachability, any birds that have managed 
to survive are certain to suffer out of all proportion 
to their numbers. 
The ‘towered’ bird continues to give rise to 
interesting speculation among shooting-men. Some 
say it is hit in the lungs, and others in the head. 
But the bird struck in the head, although it may 
rise to a fair height, is not a genuine towerer, often 
glides down with outstretched wings, and is liable 
to get up again. It is pretty generally conceded 
that a towering bird goes up and up to get air, 
and dies in the air at the moment its descent begins. 
To get air means to breathe more easily, and 
probably the reason why the bird has difficulty in 
breathing, yet can fly, is that it is being drowned 
in an inverted fashion in its own blood; that is 
to say, it has received a wound which causes blood 
to escape into its breathing mechanism. When the 
