“You enter here,” he said, indicating the wood on the right-hand side of this gap, “and you work your way back till you meet him. By-the-way, if you happen to hear shots anywhere else pay no attention. The keeper often comes out after rabbits in the early morning.”
“But if he hears us?” I asked.
“Oh, we've made that right He knows we are out shooting. Good luck.”
I would at least have clasped the hand of possibly the last man I should ever talk with. I should have left some message, said something; but with the phlegmatic coolness of his nation he had turned away before I had time to reply. For a moment I watched him strolling nonchalantly from me with his hands in his pockets, and then I fired my gun in the air and stepped into the trees.
Well, it might be an unorthodox method of duelling, but there could be no questioning the element of hazard and excitement. Here was I at one end of a narrow belt of trees, not thirty yards wide and nearly a quarter of a mile in length, and from the other came a man seeking my life. Every moment must bring us nearer together, till before long each thicket, each tree-stem, might conceal the muzzle of his gun. And the trees and undergrowth were dense enough to afford shelter to a whole company.
Three plans only were possible. First, I might remain where I was and trust to catching him unnerved, and perhaps careless, at the end of a long and fruitless search. But this I dismissed at once as unworthy of a man of spirit, and, indeed, impossible for my temperament. Secondly, I might advance at an even pace and probably meet him about the middle. This also I dismissed as being the procedure he would naturally expect me to adopt. Finally, I might advance with alacrity and encounter him before I was expected. And this was the scheme I adopted.
At a good pace I pushed my way through the branches and the thorns, wishing now, I must confess, that I had adopted a costume more suitable for this kind of warfare, till I had turned the corner of the field and advanced for a little distance up the long side. While I was walking down with Tonks I had taken the precaution of noting a particularly large pine which seemed as nearly as possible the half-way mark, but now a disconcerting reflection struck me. That pine was, indeed, half-way down the side of the field, but I had also had half of the end to traverse, so that the point at which we should meet, going at a similar pace, would be considerably nearer than I had calculated. Supposing, then, that Lumme was also hastening to meet me, he might even now be close at hand! I crouched behind a thorn-bush and listened.
It was a still, delightful morning; the sun just risen; the air fresh; no motion in the branches. Every little sound could be distinctly heard, and presently I heard one; a something moving in another thicket not ten paces away. I raised my gun, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger.
The stealthy sound ceased, and instead a pheasant flew screaming out of the wood. No longer could there be any doubt of my position. I executed a strategic retreat for a short distance to upset my enemy's calculations and waited for his approach. But I heard nothing except two or three shots from the plantation across the field, where the keeper had evidently begun his shooting. I advanced again, though more cautiously, but in a very short time was brought to a sudden stand-still by a movement in a branch overhead. The diabolical thought flashed through my mind, “He is aiming at me from a tree!”
Instantly I raised my gun and discharged both barrels into the leaves. There came down, not Lumme, but a squirrel; yet the incident inspired me with an idea. I chose a suitable tree, and, having scrambled up with some difficulty (which was not lessened by the thought that I might be shot in the act), I waited for my rival to pass below.