and drive, if possible, all that we find before us to
the corn field. Don't be impatient, and you'll see in time that I am in
the right."

No more words were now wasted; the four birds were bagged without
trouble, and the sportsmen being in the open, were handed over on the
spot to Tim; who stroked their freckled breasts, and beautifully mottled
wing-coverts and backs, with a caressing touch, as though he loved them;
and finally, in true Jack Ketch style, tucked them up severally by the
neck. Archer was not mistaken in his prognostics--another bevy had run
into the dwarf cedars from the stubble at the sound of the firing, and
were roaded up in right good style, first one dog, and then the other,
leading; but without any jealousy or haste.

They had, however, run so far, that they had got wild, and as there was
no bottom covert on the crags, had traversed them quite over to the
open, on the far side--and, just as Archer was in the act of warning
Forester to hurry softly round and head them, they flushed at thirty
yards, and had flown some five more before they were in sight, the
feathery evergreens for a while cutting off the view--the dogs stood
dead at the sound of their wings. Then, as they came in sight, Harry
discharged both barrels very quickly--the loose shot first, which
evidently took effect, for one bird cowered and seemed about to fall,
but gathered wing again, and went on for the present--the cartridge,
which went next, although the bevy had flown ten yards further, did its
work clean, and stopped its bird. Frank fired but once, and killed,
using his cartridge first, and thinking it in vain to fire the loose
shot. The remaining birds skimmed down the hill, and lighted in the
thick bushy hedge-row, as Archer had foreseen.

"So much for Ely!" exclaimed Harry--"had we both used two of them, we
should have bagged four then. As it is, I have killed one which we shall
not get; a thing that I most particularly hate."

"That bird will rise again," said Frank.

"Never!" replied the other, "he has one, if not two, shot in him, well
forward--if I am not much mistaken, before the wing--he is dead now! but
let us on. These we must follow, for they are on our line; you keep this
side the fence, and I will cross it with the dogs--come with me,
Timothy."

In a few minutes more there was a dead point at the hedge-row. "Look to,
Frank!" "Ay! ay! Poke them out, Tim;" then followed sundry bumps and
threshings of the brier