We were just in time to see Pritchard disappear into a vineyard, and a moment afterwards he raised a covey of partridges.
‘Call in your dog,’ cried Gaignez.
I called Pritchard, who, however, turned a deaf ear.
‘Catch him,’ said I to Michel.
Michel went, and returned in a few minutes with Pritchard in a leash. In the meantime I had found a long stake, which I hung crosswise round his neck, and let him go loose with this ornament. Pritchard understood that he could no longer go through the vineyards, but the stake did not prevent his hunting, and he only went a good deal further off on the open ground.
From this moment there was only one shout all along the line.
‘Hold in your dog, confound him!’
‘Keep in your Pritchard, can’t you! He’s sending all the birds out of shot!’
‘Look here! Would you mind my putting a few pellets into your brute of a dog? How can anybody shoot if he won’t keep in?’
‘Michel,’ said I, ‘catch Pritchard again.’