"Why doesn't he fire?" Lionel asked, presently. "He must be quite close to them." "Not so close as you imagine," was the answer. "Probably he is waiting until they come nearer together." The next moment there stepped boldly forth the slight, brown figure; the birds instantly rose from the water and, with swift, straight flight, made down the valley; but they had not got many yards when there were two white puffs of smoke, both birds almost simultaneously came tumbling to the ground, and then followed the double report of a gun. "Waveney has got his eye in to-day for certain," Sir Hugh said. "But what's the use of his bringing the birds along?--they're no good to anybody." "I thought perhaps they might be of some use for salmon-flies," Captain Waveney explained, as he came up. "Aren't they, Roderick?" The keeper regarded the two birds contemptuously, and shook his head. "Well, Waveney, we will give you five minutes' grace, if you like," Sir Hugh said. "Sit down and have a pipe." But this slim and wiry warrior had not even taken the gun from his shoulder. "No, no," said he, "if you are ready, I am. I can get plenty of smoking done in the South." So they began again; but the afternoon was now on the wane, and the beats were leading them homewards. Only two small incidents that befell the novice need mentioning. The first happened in this wise: the dogs were ranging widely over what appeared to be rather a barren beat, when suddenly one of them came to a dead point a considerable distance on. Of course Captain Waveney and Sir Hugh hurried forward; but Lionel could not, for he had got into trouble with a badly jammed cartridge. Just as he heard the first shot fired, he managed to get the empty case extracted and to replace it with a full one; and then he was about to hasten forward when he saw the covey rise--a large covey it was--while Captain Waveney got a right and left, and Sir Hugh fired his remaining barrel, for he had not had time to reload. At the same instant Lionel found that one of the birds had doubled back and was coming right over his head; up went his gun; he blazed away; and down rolled the grouse some dozen yards behind him. "Well done!" Sir Hugh called out, "A capital shot!" "A ghastly fluke, Sir Hugh!" Lionel called out, in return. "I simply fired in the air." "And a very good way of firing, too!" was the naive rejoinder. But his next achievement was hardly so creditable. They were skirting the edge of a birch-wood that clothed the side of a steep precipice overlooking the Aivron, where there were some patches of bracken among the heather, when the setter in front of him--a young dog--began to draw rather falteringly on to something. "Ware rabbit, Hector!" the keeper said, in an undertone.