THE GAME BREEDER 



21 



A CLEVER POACHER. 



By Nimrod. 



[The following story written by a gamekeeper was awarded first prize in a competition by 

 The Gamekeepers Magazine.] 



A lot more summers have passed than 

 I care to tell you of since I caught the 

 poacher of whom I write this tale. He 

 has now crossed the bourne, and will 

 bother us keepers no more ; many a one 

 gave a sigh of relief when they heard 

 of his death. However, I shall never 

 forget that autumn day as I stood 

 amongst the mourners in that quiet coun- 

 try churchyard and saw the remains 

 lowered of one of the most noted poach- 

 ers this country-side ever knew. It might 

 well be said of him : "Far kenned and 

 noted was his name." He did not con- 

 fine himself to any given locality like 

 most poachers, but would travel a long 

 distance in a train, sometimes in all sorts- 

 of disguises, for a night with his dog 

 and hare-nets, or some nights he pre- 

 ferred his gun when he thought the place 

 safe for the time. 



I have known him shooting on the 

 next moor to the lord of the manor on 

 the Twelfth over his setter. Of course, 

 he knew the keepers would be all en- 

 gaged with his Lordship. In great glee 

 he related the story to me months after- 

 wards. I asked him how he was not 

 afraid of the party hearing his shots. He 

 told me it was a gey windy Twelfth, 

 and besides, he had a sentinel on a point 

 of vantage who could have given him 

 the sign had anyone appeared coming in 

 his direction. 



He was no ordinary poacher, as he 

 took out game, gun, and dog licences 

 in the proper season and laid his gun up 

 on February 1. and would have laboured 

 to masons or broken stones throughout 

 the rest of the year. He made money 

 at his calling too, and bought property 

 in his native village. Therefore, you can 

 imagine how pleased a keeper was when 

 he could trap Jimmy and get him con- 

 victed. I have still a vivid remembrance 



of that night when we caught him and 

 another man; I say we, for I had the 

 assistance of a neighbour keeper and the 

 county policeman, the latter being the 

 man who found out that the affray was 

 coming off. A labourer had been en- 

 gaged on one of the farms on my beat 

 for the harvest month, coming from the 

 same village as my friend Jimmy, and, 

 of course, it had been arranged between 

 them should partridges be rife on 

 this farm that Jimmy would come down 

 for a night with his "veil". Now one day 

 a parcel came by post to this labourer, 

 and, as the country postmistress was a 

 bit of a gossip, she liked to know every- 

 body's affairs in the parish. In fact, she 

 was known to have done some dirty 

 tricks to gain her end. No doubt she 

 had torn a bit of the paper off this parcel 

 to see the contents, when, lo and behold, 

 what should meet her inquisitive eyes 

 but a very fine partridge net, and, of 

 course, she could not understand such a 

 thing, so she told the policeman's wife 

 next door and that worthy came to me. 

 The upshot was we got permission from 

 the farmer to search the man's belongings 

 in the stable loft where he slept. We 

 found the parcel alright, and also a letter 

 arranging the night for operations. Well, 

 the rest was plain sailing. We t'ook them 

 red-handed on that ever-memorable night 

 with eleven birds in their possession. 



But now for the audacity and cunning 

 of our friend on the day of their trial. 

 The county town from my place was a 

 good distance, and to get there I had to 

 go by train, and as there was only one 

 train in the morning and one at night, 

 Jimmy knew I would be away all day. 

 When his name was called in court a 

 stranger came forward and said Jimmy 

 was laid up with influenza, but lie would 

 plead guilty, and that he (the stranger) 



