“Yes,” said the doctor, smiling; “we ought to get one or two of those monsters if we get a chance.”
But, as Wilton had suggested, now that they wanted something in the way of game, nothing was to be seen, and they were fully half-way back and the evening coming on fast, but with the moon well up ready to give its light as the sun went down, before there was a fair chance. They had seen partridges again, and sent a flock of ducks skimming over the reeds, but in both cases they had risen far out of shot.
“We must get more into the longer grass,” said Griggs at last. “We shall get something then, and as soon as we’ve got enough we can bear off again into the short, and canter.”
It proved to be good advice, for about half-an-hour later, when they had been compelled by the thickness of the growth to proceed at a walk, Griggs, who was in front, suddenly turned in his saddle.
“Come more into line,” he said; “there is something on in front waiting to be flushed.”
The evolution was made, and the six ponies went steadily on through the dense growth with a loud rustling sound, while from time to time a glimpse was obtained of the waving green surface being agitated not far in front, plainly showing that they were driving something before them.
“Which way will they go, Griggs, when we flush them?” said the doctor.
“I don’t see any trees to the left, sir, or they’d fly for them; so I fancy they’ll rise and make for the open plain yonder. It looks quite clear, and if we don’t bring any down when they rise we ought to canter out after them and get a shot there, or ride them down.”
“Too long a task, as it’s getting so late.”
“Oh no, sir; they’re very heavy birds. But I don’t like this; we’re getting into longer grass and—down—dismount—quick, every one—quick!”