UPLAND SHOOTING. 
267 
this very reason it is the prettiest and most exciting sport in the 
world; that you can never even form a conjecture what is going 
to get up before you, until you see it on the wing.. Now, my 
good friend Rusticus, will you take yourself and the Spaniels 
to the tall oak tree on the brow of the hill yonder, and do your 
best to mark down every bevy we flush, to a yard. When we 
rejoin you, we will couple up the Setters, and beat the swales 
and thickets with the little dogs. Now, hold up, lads ! look 
sharp, Agilis, they are drawing already. There has been a 
bevy running here since the sun was up. See how gingerly 
they crawl over the tainted grass. Now they are standing 
both of them. Is not that a picture V ’ 
And they stepped up to the dogs, which held their point as 
stiff and staunch as if they had been cast in bronze, or carved 
in marble. 
“Hold ! Agilis ! Don’t head them, my dear fellow. I want 
to let them go, if they will, into those sprouts on the hill side. 
They are close under the red dog’s nose. There ! they are up ! 
Steady!” 
Bang ! bang ! 
“ Bravo ! a brace, Agilis ! very neatly done, I assure you; 
you let them go far enough then, yet not too far, before firing. 
You never killed a Quail before, hey V' 
“ Never on this side the water, Peritus. In France and Spain 
I have shot a good many.” 
“ A different bird altogether, though of the same order. Not 
half so bold, or strong, or swift on the wing, as this, which some 
writers call the American Partridge.” 
“ Is it a Partridge or a Quail, Peritus, after all ?” 
“ Neither one nor the other, Agilis, an intermediate link be¬ 
tween the two, but approximating nearer to the Quail. See, 
the red dog has retrieved one—good dog, Sancho! A pretty bird, 
is it not ?” 
“ Very. But what did you do ? I was busy trying to mark 
the bevy, and did not see your shots.” 
“ Oh ! I killed two, of course. It was quite open. Did you 
mark them V’ 
