But how beautiful the round full moon, the brilliant light, the white landscape, the graceful lines of the pine brought out by the snow, the hills yonder, and the stars rising above them! It was on just such a night as this that some years since a most successful raid was made upon this wood by a band of poachers coming from a distance.

The pheasants had been kept later than usual to be shot by a Christmas party, and perhaps this had caused a relaxation of vigilance.

The band came in a cart of some kind; the marks of the wheels were found on the snow where it had been driven off the highway and across a field to some ricks.

There, no doubt, the horse and cart were kept out of sight behind the ricks, while the men, who were believed to have worn smock-frocks, entered the wood.
The bright moonlight made it easy to find the pheasants, and they were potted in plenty.

Finding that there was no opposition, the gang crossed from the wood to some outlying plantations and continued their work there.