Orion had tied him up to a bush, wishing to leave him with
Little John. But the spaniel tore and twisted till he got loose and had
followed us--keeping out of sight--till now crossing the scent of a
rabbit he set up his bark. We called him to heel, and I am afraid he got
a kick. But the pheasant was alarmed, and rose before we could properly
enfilade the little copse, where we should most certainly have had him.
He flew high and straight for the fir plantations, where it was useless
to follow.
However, we leaped the brook and entered the keeper's territory under
shelter of a thick double-mound. We slipped the lined ferret into a
small bury, and succeeded in knocking over a couple of rabbits. The
object of using the lined ferret was because we could easily recover it.
This was pure mischief, for there were scores of rabbits on our own
side. But then there was just a little spice of risk in this, and we
knew Willum would gloat over it.
After firing these two shots we got back again as speedily as possible,
and once more assisted Little John. We could not, however, quite resist
the pleasure of shooting a rabbit occasionally and so tormenting him. We
left one hole each side without a net, and insisted on the removal of
the net that stretched across the top of the bank. This gave us a shot
now and then, and the removal of the cross net allowed the rabbit some
little law.
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