146 
FRANK FORESTER’S FIELD SPORTS. 
who, shooting at every bird that rises in distance, can kill four out 
of five under the most favorable circumstances, day in and day 
out. He who bags three out of five, in covert and out of covert, 
from March Snipe to December Quail, is a top-sawyer; and 
can hold his own anywhere, and against any one. 
Some men may perhaps kill twenty shots in succession, picked 
out of fifty birds which ought to have been shot at; but my word 
for it, they will get easily beaten by the man who pretends to no 
such feat, but who pulls his trigger, whenever there is a chance 
of killing. 
The real test of shooting, no less than of sportsmanship, is the 
finding and bagging the greatest number of birds within a given 
time, without the smallest reference to the number of shots fired. 
The surest of all ways to ensure the never becoming a good 
shot, is to be afraid of missing. Shoot at everything that rises 
within distance, remembering always, as an old Yorkshire game- 
keeper, by whose side I bagged my first Snipe some eight-and- 
twenty years ago, was wont to admonish me, that t’ Snaipe was 
i’t’ maist danger. If you miss, say with Jacob Faithful, “bet¬ 
ter luck next time,” and endeavor to observe and remember how 
and why you missed him ; whether you shot above, below, or to 
the right or left of him; this will give you steadiness and cool¬ 
ness at first; and, when you succeed in remembering, will have 
done much already toward preventing you from missing fair 
shots at least. For the rest, birds will dodge, at times, just when 
the trigger is drawn ; boughs will be in the way; the sun will 
shine in the face of the best shots—moreover, the steadiest nerves 
will sometimes be shaken or unstrung, and the quickest finger 
will be a thumb on some days to the best sportsman. 
I know a right good shot, and a good sportsman too, and a 
good friend of mine to boot, who does not pretend to kill quite 
three out of five, year in and year out; but who is wont to say, 
which is very wrong of him, though I believe perfectly true, that 
he’ll be d—d if he can’t beat any man, who can kill twenty shots 
in succession. 
Sc much for thine encouragement, my young beginner 
