WILD LIFE ON THE WING 
stood the huge bulk of Slieve Corrig, and down 
below lights twinkled from Ballongarry House. 
From somewhere in the darkness a lapwing 
cried, and from the bogs a deeper shriek 
answered. Andy heard the swish of broad 
wings over the cottage, and then the Corr iasc 
passed calling towards Slieve Corrig. 
" Bedad ! he's had to leave the ould place as 
well as me," said Andy Hogan. And the fire- 
light lit an evil gleam in his eye. 
# # * * # 
By his own act, Cornelius Geoghegan had in- 
troduced a master-poacher into his woods. Pre- 
viously Andy had poached to fill his own pot, 
but none of the other men in the neighbour- 
hood had dared to do so. The farm lads 
ploughing in the " Forty Acres," durst not set 
snares in the hedge during the dinner-hour ; on 
Sunday afternoons there was no fox-coursing in 
Ballongarry. Now Andy poached flagrantly, 
and for revenge. He disliked fishing, but for 
many nights he squatted under the old thorn by 
the Quarry Pool, watching his float patiently, 
and what he caught he buried. It was no 
wonder that the numbers of the imported trout 
steadily decreased, for often on the long warm 
evenings another and most accomplished angler 
visited the place. This was the Corr iasc, and 
he seldom went away hungry. Andy had 
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