CHAPTER VIII.
WITH DOG AND GUN.
"A westerly wind and a cloudy sky,
Proclaim it a hunting morning,"
Sang some one of the merry sportsmen, as the dogs were loosed in a gently rolling field, where, on one hand, the stiff, straggling rows of dry cotton stalks ran down to the river bank, and on the other a dreary fallow plat, overgrown with yellow sedge and clumps of bushes, spread away to a dense wood. There was, in fact, a gentle breeze from the west, and a thin veil of fleece clouds covered the sky. The morning appeared propitious, every one was in high spirits.
The ladies, in an ample spring wagon, had been driven to an elevated point whence they could have a sweeping view of the grounds to be shot over. A field glass or two had been furnished them, so that distance need not trouble their observations.
The men, in a long line and distant from each other not less than twenty yards, walked slowly with the dogs running to and fro ahead of them.
The morning was balmy and warm, but not hot, with just a hint of dampness in the air. Along the river a low-hanging line of gray fog was slowly fading away.
The ladies alighted from the wagon, with the help of the colored driver, and disposed themselves in picturesque attitudes, their broad hats thrown back and the wind fluttering their ribbons. Miss Noble and Miss Crabb were the most interested, the latter making swift notes in a little red book.
Reynolds had quite forgotten his promise to Miss Noble about teaching her how to shoot. He had, in fact, forgotten her as well. Moreton was on one side of him, Beresford on the other. He felt the responsibility of having to shoot between too such marksmen; but he was also keenly alive to the opportunity it would give him for a display of his finest abilities as a sportsman. He had resolved to lead the field if possible and he could scarcely have told why. Mrs. Ransom had said something just before starting about Beresford being considered the best shot present. This may have served as a stimulus. She had not meant to be overheard by any gentleman of the party, her words being for Miss Crabb's ear; but Reynolds did hear. Her voice had a way of getting to him, as if it sought him of its own account. It was a very sweet and musical voice, suggesting a reserve of strength and depth, with just a suspicion in it of that vague sadness which lurked in her face.
Some hampers containing luncheon had been deposited under a tree by a little spring near where the ladies were posted, and here, at the sound of a horn blown by the negro attendant, all were to come at high noon.
The shooting began early, the first birds being pointed by one of General DeKay's dogs. It was a fine strong bevy, flushed in a weedy swale. Mr. Noble and the General both fired right and left, getting but one bird each. The dogs dropped to shot and the game, well scattered, was marked down in some low sedge two hundred yards further on. Two of the dogs were now sent to retrieve the dead birds, which was scarcely done when another covey was flushed by some of the party, the birds taking almost the same flight as the first. This was enough to warm the blood in any sportsman's veins. The dogs fairly trembled with eagerness. The line was lengthened, the shooters getting further apart so as to cover a wide territory. Beresford's pointer was first to stand, Reynolds' setter, a noble dog, promptly backing, and two birds were flushed. It was a fine chance for a double shot, but Beresford missed with his first barrel and killed with his second. Reynolds cut down the missed bird with his right and killed another that flushed in front of him with his left. The shooting was now begun in earnest, Beresford making a very difficult double a few steps farther on, whilst Moreton distinguished himself by three straight misses. General DeKay and Mr. Noble were apparently the most excited men in the field. The banker was too ready, shooting as soon as his bird showed above cover, and the General was rather slow, poking his gun after his game until it had flown out of certain range.