We of course
kept the verges of this covert, our dogs working down the middle, and so
well did we manage it, that when we reached the wagon, just as the sun
was setting, we numbered a hundred and twenty-five birds bagged, besides
two which were so cut by the shot as to be useless, six which we had
devoured, and four or five which we lost in spite of the excellence of
our retrievers. When we got home again, although the Dutchman was on the
spot, promising us a quarter race upon the morrow, and pressing
earnestly for a rubber to-night, we were too much used up to think of
anything but a good supper and an early bed.
DAY THE FIFTH
Our last day's shooting in the vale of Sugar-loaf was over; and,
something contrary to Harry's first intention, we had decided, instead
of striking westward into Sullivan or Ulster, to drive five miles upon
our homeward route, and beat the Longpond mountain--not now for such
small game as woodcock, quail, or partridge; but for a herd of deer,
which, although now but rarely found along the western hills, was said
to have been seen already several times, to the number of six or seven
head, in a small cove, or hollow basin, close to the summit of the
Bellevale ridge.
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