It
was a capital spot for a drive, for on each side were young larch
plantations, sloping down towards them like a V, the guns being at the
narrow end and level with the points of the plantations, which were at
this spot about a hundred and twenty yards apart. In front was a large
stretch of open fields, lying in such a fashion that the birds were
bound to fly straight over the guns and between the gap at the end of
the V-shaped covers.
They had to wait a long while, for the beat was of considerable
extent, and this they did in silence, till presently a couple of
single birds appeared coming down the wind like lightning, for a
stiffish breeze had sprung up. One went to the left over Edward
Cossey's head, and he shot it very neatly, but the other, catching
sight of Harold's hat beneath the fence, which was not a high one,
swerved and crossed, an almost impossible shot, nearer sixty than
fifty yards from him.
"Now," said Ida, and he fired, and to his joy down came the bird with
a thud, bounding full two feet into the air with the force of its
impact, being indeed shot through the head.
"That's better," said Ida, as she handed him the second gun.
Another moment and a covey came over, high up. He fired both barrels
and got a right and left, and snatching the second gun sent another
barrel after them, hitting a third bird, which did not fall.
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