About four o’clock that afternoon I met David and the dogs at the spinney which leads into the Sweet Fern Covent. The three setters, Voyou, Gamin, and Mioche, were in fine feather — David had killed a woodcock and a brace¹ of grouse² over them that morning — and they were thrashing about the spinney an short range when I came up, gun under arm and pipe lighted.

“What’s the prospect³, David,” I asked, trying to keep my feet in the tangle⁴ of wagging, whining⁵ dogs; “hello, what’s amiss with Mioche?”

“A brier in his foot sir; I drew it and stopped the wound but I guess the gravel⁶’s got in. If you have no objection, sir, I might take him back with me.”

“It’s safer,” I said; “take Gamin too, I only want one dog this afternoon. What is the situation?”

“Fair, sir; the grouse lie within a quarter of a mile of the oak second-growth. The woodcock are mostly on the alders⁷. I saw any number of snipe on the meadows. There’s something else in by the lake — I can’t just tell what, but the wood-duck set up a clatter⁸ when I was in the thicket⁹ and they come dashing through the wood as if a dozen foxes was snappin’ at their tail feathers.”

“Probably a fox,” I said; “leash those dogs — they must learn to stand in. I’ll be back by dinner time.”

“There is one more thing sir,” said David, lingering with his gun under his arm.

“Well,” said I.

“I saw a man in the woods by the Oak Covern — at least I think I did.”

分享到：