And so the luncheon party, lord and lady, twins and maidens, guides and dogs, trailed away across the ridge, distant silhouettes presently against the sky, then gone.

And after a little while the far, dry, accentless report of smokeless powder announced that the opening of the season had been resumed and the Lesser Children were dying fast in the glory of a perfect day.
"Are you ready, Mr.Siward ?" She stood waiting for him at the edge of the thicket; Miles resumed his game sack and her fowling-piece; the dog came up, looking him anxiously in the eyes.
So he walked forward beside her into the dappled light of the thicket.
Within a few minutes the dog stood twice; and twice the whirring twitter of woodcock startled her, echoed by the futile crack of his gun.
"Beg pardon, sir--" "Yes, Miles," with a glint of humour.
"Overshot, sir,--excusin' the liberty, Mr.Siward.Both marked down forty yard to the left if you wish to start 'em again." "No," he said indifferently, "I had my chance at them.

They're exempt." Then Sagamore, tail wildly whipping, came smack on the trail of an old stager of a cock-grouse--on, on over rock, log, wet gully, and dry ridge, twisting, doubling, circling, every wile, every trick employed and met, until the dog crawling noiselessly forward, trembled and froze, and Siward, far to left, wheeled at the muffled and almost noiseless rise.

For an instant the slanting barrels wavered, grew motionless; but only a stray sunbeam glinting struck a flash of cold fire from the muzzle, only the feathery whirring whisper broke the silence of suspense.

Then far away over sunny tree tops a big grouse sailed up, rocketing into the sky on slanted wings, breasting the height of green; dipped, glided downward with bowed wings stiffened, and was engulfed in the misty barriers of purpling woods.
"Vale!" said Siward aloud, "I salute you!" He came strolling back across the crisp leaves, the dappled sunshine playing over his face like the flicker of a smile.
"Miles," he said, "my nerve is gone.