Sportsmen may find partridge-shooting among shocks of uncarried corn
more interesting than shooting over a bare expanse of barren stubble.
The shocks or stooks help to mark the birds, alive or dead; and they
cause them to rise to a convenient height, so that they show sharp
and clear against the sky, instead of skimming away low against the
baffling tints of the autumn fields. And birds seem to lie better
among stooks than on bare stubble. They cannot see well or far among
the stooks, and they like to linger in the dusting-places that they
make in sheltered, sunny spots. Another point worth mentioning is less
obvious but none the less true--the stooks help the eye in aiming. It
always seems easier to hit a pheasant flying high between the tops of
trees, as down an avenue open to the sky, than in the open. So in the
cornfields before the harvest is garnered. And there is still another
point which adds to the charm found in shooting among the corn-sheaves:
when a covey bustles up, the birds spread out and scatter, for they
cannot see all the party at the same time; and so they may give each
gunner a mild taste of what the days of driving will bring.
* * * * *
"Mark"
Some men have a special gift for marking a bird that is down, while
others never know where the bird fell within half an acre. But marking
is only a matter of training the eyes, and anybody may learn the trick:
in time the eyes accurately note what they see almost unconsciously.
The sportsman cannot be too accurate in marking the fall of a bird. The
great thing is to take a good line--an imaginary line drawn from the
eye to the place where the bird fell: if at a far distance, the actual
spot will be nearer in reality than it seems. The accustomed eye finds
points which mark the line, if not the very spot, where the bird has
fallen--a spray of charlock flower, a thistle-stem, or a tinted leaf.
When a bird falls at a distance it is helpful to take some prominent
object in front and behind to mark the line--such as a gap and a
sapling in opposite hedges.
A sportsman who is a master of the art of marking knows where to come
upon each bird he shoots singly; and when he scores a brace he knows
all about the second bird. Often he knows much more about the first
bird than those who have nothing else to do but to mark. The usual
rule is for the attendant to mark the first bird that falls and the
shooter the second. With two men to mark one bird it should be quite
easy to find the place. The bird will be within a yard of where the
two imaginary lines intersect. A common mistake made by sportsmen is
to suppose that because they have fired at a bird coming towards them
it must have fallen in front of them: more probably it has fallen
several yards behind, especially if it be a bird brought down by the
second barrel. It is not easy to mark the place where a covey pitches.
On seeing the birds suddenly lower their line of flight, a sportsman
may suppose they have alighted, unless he still keeps a watchful eye
on them, for birds often lower their flight when they have crossed a
hollow or a valley, and then skim on low over the crest of the hill.
However, when birds lower their line of flight, after flying some
distance, it is a sign that they contemplate settling.
* * * * *