36 MIDWINTER IN THESSALY 



misgiving that we surveyed the dense jungle before us 

 and took anxious note of the number of guns — nearly 

 twenty in all — with which the battue was to be conducted. 

 What was the plan of operations ? we asked ; were we to 

 walk in line, or were we to be stationed round the covert ? 

 'D'abord, il faut aller partout/ replied our host, waving 

 both hands airily in the direction of the wood, ' et quand 

 vous entendrez aboyer les chiens — alors, vous chercherez 

 une bonne place ! ' 



This was not very reassuring ; however, the party soon 

 scattered through the copse, and operations began. Once 

 more the unskilfulness of the English sportsmen became 

 too manifest. A blackbird was observed sitting on a 

 bramble-bush ; a native chasseur pointed him out to the 

 foreigner, who refused to shoot. Ah ! it was too small a 

 mark for him, so down went the Greek, stooping low, 

 stalked the quarry, obtained a safe sitting shot, and, with 

 a prodigious report, laid the unlucky songster low. 



But there is bigger game on foot. It is time for each 

 to seek ' une bonne place,' for the dogs are barking wildly. 

 The pack, by the bye, is a mixed one ; there is one English 

 fox-hound, three pointers, and six or seven nondescripts. 

 They are tearing through the underwood, throwing their 

 tongues merrily — pointers and all. A grey object darts 

 shadow-like across a glade — stay ! don't shoot ! it is one of 

 the pack: no, by the chaste huntress ! it is a jackal, and 

 we should earn effusive gratitude from the shepherds if 

 we could secure his skin. But it is too late now, he is 

 away to the hill, and we shall see him no more. A fine 

 old red dog-fox is not so lucky ; he is bowled over by one 

 of the beaters, who falls upon him and flays him on the 

 spot — thereby putting himself two clear days' wages to 



