^ail and Partridge 139 



this is dreadfully irregular — but really one 

 cannot let a covey get clean away." High- 

 Low's face indeed was wonderfully expressive. 

 Joe declared the dog winked if you asked him 

 if he could be so ill-bred as to suck eggs, and 

 that he looked a scolding if, with three guns 

 out, he put up a covey and did not have at 

 least four birds to retrieve. However that 

 may have been, it is a fact that once, when a 

 city visitor took High-Low out and persis- 

 tently rhissed every bird that got up, after two 

 hours the dog deliberately went home, crept 

 under the porch, and lay hidden there until he 

 saw the city man go away next morning. 



Joe shot always to make a clean kill, or a 

 clean miss. He hated above everything to 

 wing a bird, and maybe lose it, High-Low 

 rejoiced to have them winged. No matter 

 how fast and far they ran, he ran after, caught 

 them, and brought them to Joe, without rump- 

 ling even a feather. Unless he followed them 

 by the scent of the blood, Joe could not tell 

 how he did it. Unharmed birds he overran 

 — putting them up sometimes right under his 

 feet. Major Baker inclined to believe that 

 the shock of the wound made the winged bird 

 unable to withhold its scent. A bird badly 

 hurt Joe always killed at once. Those merely 

 wing-tipped, he often took home to Patsy, who 

 fed and coddled and healed them, and some- 



