WILD LIFE ON THE WING 
left the place before the equinoctial gales, 
which came early that year ; but the Man did 
not care for that. He came into the wood 
one night after sundown, and leaned against a 
tree trunk : the white dog lay beside him 
sighing in his dreams. The rabbits knew 
that they were there, and stamped a warning, 
but Creaman did not know rabbit-talk, and 
even if he had, I doubt if he would have 
listened he so full of the love-longing that 
night. 
The Man heard the " chissick-chissick " as 
Creaman twisted round the corner of the 
wood, and the deep " hoo-hoo " as he flapped 
overhead ; but he flew in the shadow of the 
trees, and although the Man held the gun to 
his shoulder and followed the voice as it shifted 
along the clearing, he never saw his mark until 
Creaman turned at the bohireen. 
That shot was a long sixty yards, but the Man 
had an idea that the woodcock was a delicate 
bird, to be brought down by the least " tashte 
o' shot." The light was failing, and it was 
fate rather than sure shooting which guided the 
charge. Creaman dropped down into the road 
half-stunned, but the patter of the dog's feet 
racing through the wood roused him. He 
rose again laboriously, leaving a row of crimson 
drops on the mud behind him, and fluttered 
100 
