It
Was A Winter Morning, Misty And Cold When The Light Came, And The
Birds Were Excessively Wild At That Hour.
In vain we followed the
flocks, my brother stalking them through the sedges, above his knees
in the water; not a bird could he get, and at last we were obliged to
go back empty-handed to face the music.
At half-past ten we rode to
the door, wet and hungry and miserable, to find the whole house in a
state of commotion at our disappearance. When we were first missed in
the morning, one of the workmen reported that he had seen us taking
our horses to conceal them in the plantation at a little after dark,
and it was assumed that we had run away - that we had gone south where
the country was more thinly settled and wild animals more abundant, in
quest of new and more stirring adventures. They were greatly relieved
to see us back, but as we had no ducks to placate them we could not be
forgiven, and as a punishment we had to go breakfastless that day, and
our leader was in addition sternly lectured and forbidden to use a gun
for the future.
We thought this a very hard thing, and for the following days were
inclined to look at life as a rather tame, insipid business; but soon,
to our joy, the ban was removed. In forbidding us the use of the guns
my father had punished himself as well as us, since he never
thoroughly enjoyed a meal - breakfast, dinner, or supper - unless he had
a bird on the table, wild duck, plover, or snipe. A cold roast duck
was his favourite breakfast dish, and he was never quite happy when he
didn't get it.
Still, I was not happy, and could not be so long as I was not allowed
to shoot. It was a privilege to be allowed to attend, but it seemed to
me that at the age of ten I was quite old enough to have a gun. I had
been a rider on horseback since the age of six, and in some exercises
I was not much behind my brother, although when we practised with the
foils or with the gloves he punished me in rather a barbarous manner.
He was my guide and philosopher, and had also been a better friend
ever since our fight with knives and the cowbird episode; nevertheless
he still managed to dissemble his love, and when I revolted against
his tyranny I generally got well punished for it.
About that time an old friend of the family, who took an interest in
me and wished to do something to encourage me in my natural history
tastes, made me a present of a set of pen-and-ink drawings. There was,
however, nothing in these pictures to help me in the line I had taken:
they were mostly architectural drawings made by himself of buildings -
houses, churches, castles, and so on, but my brother fell in love with
them and began to try to get them from me.
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