Let's fill the bags, and have no
more of this foozling bird-nesting."
No one objected, so each boy filled the fustian bag he carried full of
stones. They crossed into the next field, Tom and East taking one side
of the hedges, and the other two the other side. Noise enough they made
certainly, but it was too early in the season for the young birds, and
the old birds were too strong on the wing for our young marksmen,
and flew out of shot after the first discharge. But it was great fun,
rushing along the hedgerows, and discharging stone after stone at
blackbirds and chaffinches, though no result in the shape of slaughtered
birds was obtained; and Arthur soon entered into it, and rushed to head
back the birds, and shouted, and threw, and tumbled into ditches, and
over and through hedges, as wild as the Madman himself.
Presently the party, in full cry after an old blackbird (who was
evidently used to the thing and enjoyed the fun, for he would wait till
they came close to him, and then fly on for forty yards or so, and, with
an impudent flicker of his tail, dart into the depths of the quickset),
came beating down a high double hedge, two on each side.
"There he is again," "Head him," "Let drive," "I had him there," "Take
care where you're throwing, Madman." The shouts might have been heard a
quarter of a mile off. They were heard some two hundred yards off by a
farmer and two of his shepherds, who were doctoring sheep in a fold in
the next field.
Pages:
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294