rtain of a haul.

Even in the present day and in the south a fawn is now and then stolen
from parks and forests where deer are kept. Being small, it is not much
more difficult to hide than a couple of hares; and once in the carrier's
cart and at a little distance no one asks any questions. Such game
always finds a ready sale; and when a savoury dish is on the table those
who are about to eat it do not inquire whence it came any more than the
old folk did centuries ago. A nod and a wink are the best sauce. As the
keepers are allowed to sell a certain number of fawns (or say they are),
it is not possible for any one at a distance to know whether the game
was poached or not. An ordinary single-barrel muzzle-loader of the
commonest kind with a charge of common shot will kill a fawn.

I once started to stalk a pheasant that was feeding in the corner of a
meadow. Beyond the meadow there was a cornfield which extended across to
a preserved wood. But the open stubble afforded no cover--any one
walking in it could be seen--so that the pheasant had to be got at from
one side only. It was necessary also that he should be shot dead without
fluttering of wings, the wood being so near.

The afternoon sun, shining in a cloudless sky--it was a still October
day--beat hot against the western side of the hedge as I noiselessly
walked beside it. In the aftermath, green but flowerless, a small flock
of sheep were feeding--one with a long briar clinging to his wool. They
moved slowly before me; a thing I wanted; for behind sheep almost any
game can be approached.

I have also frequently shot rabbits that were out feeding, by the aid of
a herd of cows. It does not seem to be so much the actual cover as the
scent of the animals; for a man of course can be seen over sheep, and
under the legs of cattle. But the breath and odour of sheep or cows
prevent the game from scenting him, and, what is equally effective, the
cattle, to which they are accustomed, throw them off their guard.

The cart-horses in the fields do not answer so well: if you try to use
one for stalking, unless he knows you he will sheer off and set up a
clumsy gallop, being afraid of capture and a return to work. But cows
will feed steadily in front, and a flock of sheep, very slowly driven,
move on with a gentle 'tinkle, tinkle.' Wild creatures show no fear of
what they are accustomed to, and the use of which they understand.

If a solitary hurdle be set up in a meadow as a