Relics of the Great Days
The old-time gunner went out in the morning with all manner of contrivances and implements stowed about his person. He wore a shot-belt for distributing the weight of his lead, he carried neat little magazines, so that he might the more easily handle his copper percussion-caps, and he wore a wallet of leather containing such tools as a nipple-wrench and spare parts—the nipples in the gun might break or blow out. The careful man carried a wad-punch, and in emergency would punch wads for his muzzle-loader out of his felt hat or his neighbour's—what could be a more neighbourly act than to sacrifice a pair of leather gaiters in the cause of wads? A keeper friend treasures many relics of the great days of the old squire—among them a curious little mirror, the glass about the size of your little-finger nail, set at the top of a tiny brass box, small enough to slip into the barrel of a twenty-bore. The old squire would draw this mirror from his waistcoat pocket before the first charge was poured into the muzzle of his gun, dropping it glass upwards down each barrel in turn, so that he could see by the reflected light if they were well cleaned and polished.
Cleaning a Muzzle-loader
The cleaning of a muzzle-loader was an immense undertaking. First, the barrels were removed from the stocks, then bucketfuls of hot water were forced through them; out would pour a stream of black, liquid filth, having no respect for clothes or person, and smelling abominably. Heated water was used because it cleaned away all the foulness of the black powder, and quickly dried off. After washing, the barrels were fixed in vices carefully padded to prevent injury, and then they were given a hearty polishing inside with a tow-topped rod. Great attention was paid to the locks, which were not so well protected from water as they are to-day—they were removed every now and then, and taken apart by means of a neat little clamp for holding the mainspring. In those days people spoke of how many pounds of shot they had fired—not of how many cartridges. The old-time bags were not to be despised. One keeper, who has been in his present place for forty odd years, told us that he can always remember his last day's shooting with muzzle-loaders, because they bagged the same number of hares as pheasants—218—to say nothing of 324 rabbits. They must have performed some wonderful feats of loading as well as shooting.
The Knowing Beater
At covert shoots beaters often behave in unaccountable ways; but it is not every day a beater is seen crawling about on hands and knees. A guest at a covert shoot, surprised at such a sight, inquired about the beater's object. "Beg pardon, sir; I thought as 'ow you was the guv'ner," said the beater, rising. A further question as to why the guv'ner should be met on all fours brought this answer: "Well, you see, sir, 'tis this way like—the guv'ner, 'e don't allow no game to git up 'igh, not if 'e can anyways 'elp it. Not 'e, for 'e wops it into any birds as rises 'ardly afore they be got on their wings like. So you see, sir, soon as I thinks I be gittin' dangerous near 'im, I allus reckons to be a bit careful."