As we met at our usual rendezvous, the rain stopped and we moved off to the first drive in spasmodic wintry sunshine. Our party consisted of nine Guns, the keeper and half a dozen village lads as beaters.
The consensus of opinion was that the birds would very probably have taken refuge on a large field of mustard and an adjoining field of roots which, being on a lee slope to the night’s storm, would have provided them with shelter.
Having walked-in some hedges and a grass field, the Guns left the beaters to take up their positions for the first drive. This consisted of a long, open stubble, with the Guns just below the
