92 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE PHEASANT 



described ; yet I venture to say that most sportsmen 

 may find some amusement in listening to the yarns 

 which a really clever poacher can relate. Take, 

 for instance, the case of a Gallic rascal, Philippe 

 Devaux, who once flourished in the forest of Com- 

 pifegne. He was a native of the village of Armain- 

 court. His trade, or occupation, was dressing vines ; 

 but he took care to spend more time among the 

 pheasants of the forest than in the midst of the strip 

 of vineyard which he had inherited from his parents. 

 An accident which cost him his left thumb early con- 

 ferred upon him the nickname of Sans Pouce, or the 

 man without a thumb. Under this professional title 

 he was known to the whole countryside. 



At the beginning of his career, and before he 

 had made his mark as a poacher, Sans Pouce used 

 to carry his felonious implements beneath his loose 

 cotton blouse. They consisted of a small and light 

 fowling piece, a phosphoric tinder box, and a lantern. 

 He ranged the forest just as he liked, but he pre- 

 ferred to shoot over those parts of it which abutted 

 upon the high road to Paris. Whenever this fellow 

 marked a roosting pheasant, he halted for a quarter of 

 an hour to ascertain whether anyone else was in the 

 vicinity. If his fears were allayed, he took a careful 

 aim at his victim. His gun was too lightly charged to 



