I

AM the Squire's head keeper.

For two hundred years and more, since the Ridstocks of Ridstock in the West Riding sent into Blankshire a younger son to inherit the property of the Blankshire collateral branch, a Falconer has always been head keeper. The Squire does say that when his far-away ancestor, Sir Pembroke Ridstock, was found stark dead after the bloody fight of Flodden Field, up in the north country, his foster-brother, Giles the Falconer, lay dead on the young knight's body, clutching the broken bannerpole. So I tell my son Jack-as fine a young keeper as ever wore green velveteen-that Ridstocks and Falconers have been too long together ever to part; and though he does talk wildly sometimes about going off to America to try his rifle on a buffalo, and send me home a grisly bear's skin, I don't think he would really care to go until I am under the turf, and then of course he will be head keeper in my place. Our young Squire has some notion of going off next summer for a hunting trip upon the prairies, and if he does I must persuade him to take Jack with him and bring him back; and then perhaps, after a turn at adventure in that wild country, Jack will be content to settle down, carry the young Squire's second gun, as I do his father's, on shooting days, and keep up the head of feathered game for which the estate is so famous.

There is not better ground in England, out of Norfolk, for partridges; and as he gives me his annual five-pound note, when we have finished up the day at Grimstone Roughs, Lord Blankton himself has many a time said to me, 'Why, Falconer, where do you get all these pheasants from-do you steal them?' In very truth, his lordship's little joke is becoming equally annual with his tip; for as he always gets put into a 'hot corner' or two, he brings down a good many to his own gun, and certainly does see more than anybody else; but I may say, without

self-flattery, that our covers are always really well stocked. I am glad that I have nothing to boast of in the way of 'fur,' though to my mind there is no prettier shooting than a fine lively rabbit bolting and popping in and out of a fernbrake: but the old Squire will not have either rabbits or hares to stain the ground if he or I can help it. I remember when I had been about three years head keeper I had got up an astonishing show of 'fur;' but one of the best tenants took huff at this, gave notice to leave, and nothing the Squire could do would persuade him to remain unless it was keeping down the rabbits and hares on his farm. This the Squire would not do, for he liked the shooting, and, besides, was obstinate and would not stand what looked like dictation. And so the tenant went to Canada; but as soon as he was gone the Squire took it a deal to heart, and swore a strongish oath to me that he would never again run the chance of losing a good tenant for any such vermin; and they were well thinned down all over the estate, and we have kept them so ever since. Now-adays there is no grumbling; indeed that tenant is a proud man who can boast of having given the Squire his best day, and as every one of them looks upon himself as a voluntary under keeper, we have scarcely any trouble with poachers; but formerly I often used to go home with a broken head after a tussle with the vagabonds, and it is one of my great captures that I am about to relate.

There is not much honour among regular poachers. The rascals are very often ready to split upon one another, though when they are out in a gang they will stick together and make desperate work with the keepers, as everybody knows. But over and over again, 'from information received,' I have been able to out-general and overpower them.

Now that same cover, Grimstone Roughs, has always been a pet cover of the Squire's and mine. It is on

some rising ground not far from the Squire's school, where all we youngsters were so well taught; and from the time I began to go to school I knew every inch of it well. My father could trust me, and used to send me to lay down corn for the pheasants, and tell me to keep my eyes open for vermin and so forth; and many a half holiday have I spent in that wood watching the young pheasants running about, and the squirrels a-nutting. It is a pretty sight to see those little fellows stripping a hazel, and if you don't move you may even sit under the same tree and see them do it. The ground below is soon covered with cracked shells and uncracked nuts, but it is of no use picking up these last, they are all bad. Master Squirrel does not gather nuts for any body but himself and his family. But I am babbling in my old age: I must get on with my story.

The wood covers about twentyfive acres of ground, on a gentle rise to the top. From the top of the wood stretches out for many miles an extensive moorland and half-cultivated country; at the bottom, and going round nearly two sides of the wood, flows a deep and sluggish stream, and at the opposite lower corner, with just a strip of meadow land between, is an old bridge with Roman foundations, they say, where four roads meet. One of these, on the cover side of the river, goes over the moorland to a big town about fifteen miles off; the other, to the left, to some farms of the Squire's. On the opposite side one road goes past the school and my lodge to the hall and beyond it, and the other to the neighbouring town of W. The road up the moorland had formerly gone right through the cover, but the Squire had managed to get it diverted alongside to the left, and the old road, through the strip of meadow, is now merely a drive, but trespassers occasionally will use it, as the new road is rough and steepish. Now it will be seen that when poachers out of W-- have been in the wood they must make for the bridge to get home, and when I happened to be out alone and heard

any disturbance in the wood, I always used to keep near the bridge to find out who they were if a strong party, and if only one or two for a capture, in case they made for the bridge by the old drive through the meadow; for this being a private road I could legally do so. But the villains generally got out of the wood upon the moorland road, and then, that being a public road, I could not touch them; but still I had the satisfaction of finding out who the plunderers were. The wood had not often been attempted by a strong gang, for by occupying in strength the line of the moorland road we could drive them into a corner by the river, or force them to make a rush down the drive, in which case we were always ready for them, so that the party was commonly a small one.

One night, 'from information received,' Bill Bevan and I had posted ourselves close to the bridge on the look-out for two hulking fellows out of W, whom we expected to hit upon going to or returning from their nefarious work.

At that

time I was a stout, strong young fellow, and did not care for any man in the county in a good cause, and Bill Bevan was my favourite watcher. He was bold as a lion, much bigger and stronger than myself, and had helped me to handcuff not a few pheasant-robbers.

We waited till past two o'clock, and saw and heard nothing; indeed, we hardly expected to do so; for the business our friends were to be out upon, was the long net on the upper side of the cover and driving in, which is done with little noise unless it may be an occasional squeak from a hare: and we had watched the bridge carefully from a distance, while it was light, and had not seen them cross it. We therefore at last determined to give up, just take round the upper side of the cover, and then go off to bed. On a sudden we heard voices talking in the wood, and the speakers apparently making for the bridge.

"Why, they have been there, after all,' said Bill; 'how could they have got there?'

We waited quiet under the shadow of the hedge-the men were still talking, and drawing near. There was not much light, but the stars were bright, and by them, when they came within about ten yards, I could distinguish our two friends, one labouring along with a heavy bag at his back.

'Now then,' said I, in a whisper, 'take the outside one, Bill;' and we each sprang at our man. I got fair hold of the fellow's collar with the bag. He dropped the bag with a curse, and laid hold of my arın. I instantly found I had my work before me, for, though I had a fair hold of him, the fellow was half as big again as myself, and cursed and struggled and wrenched and at last managed to kick my Ishin with the heel of his hobnailed boot SO viciously that from pain I loosened my hold for a moment. My man broke from me, and seized me by the bare throat with one hand and round the loins with the other. Halfchoked, with a desperate effort I got his fingers from my throat, and a second after got a half-hit on the Ichin which dazed me. We had now struggled close to the river, and my friend, who had been cursing extraordinarily during the fight, said, 'I'll pitch thee into the river.'

'Do if thou can,' said I, getting hold a bit firmer by the collar again, and hitting him a good fair blow between the eyes with my fist. His rage was awful; and after another very violent tussle he got hold of me foul in some out-of-the-way manner that I cannot recollect, and threw me right through a thornbush into the river. The smarting from the thorns, that scored my hands and face wofully, and the cold water, and the shame of being beaten so enraged me that I was out of the water almost as soon as I was in, and jumped back to the fray, which from the noise I judged to be serious. During the time I

had been engaged with my man, Bill had tackled the other, and much more successfully.: for, just as I was sent neck and crop into the river, he was kneeling on his man's chest and putting on the cuffs. He was in the act of completing this when the fellow freed from me came up, slipped his arm round Bill's neck, and proceeded to garotte him off his handcuffed antagonist. But Bill-an immensely powerful man-though taken thus at disadvantage, was not to be beaten easily, and managed to twist himself upon his back, still keeping the first man below; and when I came upon the scene, dripping out of the river, they were all there in a heap, all arms and legs, and snarling and blaspheming frightfully. In a second or two I saw the state of things, and jumped upon my old friend with both knees in the small of his back and both hands at the back of his collar. I had such a grand hold that I could have throttled a giant, and in a few seconds he ceased to struggle. I then got one foot on the ground, and heaved him by the collar so as to ease Bevan, who soon got out of the mess, took my cuffs out of my pocket, and secured my big one, who was now nearly strangled and gasped for breath. The other fellow lay still upon the ground. I began to be frightened about my work, for my man did not seem like coming to: but Bill got his billycock full of water out of the river, dashed it in his face, and the ruffian was soon all right. I do not think I ever heard any one blaspheme so fearfully as when he found out the handcuffs: but we got him and the other fellow up and collared them safely. As we were making for the bridge I stumbled over the bag, which I had clean forgotten. I sung out to Bill to carry it.

'Carry it be blowed,' said he; 'I'll make this big 'un do that.'

'Hold him a minute.'

He got hold of the bag, and finding, as he expected, a strong cord with a loose end round the top, whipped it in a loop over the big man's neck behind, and marched

him off, carrying unresistingly his own game-bag.

As I was wet through, we agreed to go to my lodge before going to the lock-up at W Upon ar

riving there, I left Bill outside with the two prisoners, struck a light, went up stairs and changed my clothes. When I came down, I called Bill in with his two beauties to have a look at them. To my amazement they were perfect strangers, and looked like and really were navvies on the tramp. Bill stared at me, I at Bill, and there stood our two ugly customers, looking now as though they could not quite make it all out. Had we made a mistake?

What on earth was to be done?

Had we half killed one and handcuffed two innocent men? 'Well, if they were innocent, they do not look like it,' was my final thought. The big fellow was a stolid-looking ruffian, who seemed to take things pretty easy; but the other looked just like a fox caught in one of my traps, with a quick, startled eye that seemed to ask what next. I was puzzled what to do, and so I could see was Bill. But there was the bag! Ah, the bag! Untie the bag, Bill,' said I, and let us see what they have got.' Bill slipped the cord over the big one's neck, put the

bag on the floor, and proceeded to pull out-not hares and rabbitsbut new boots and shoes, to the amount of a couple of dozen or more! I understood it all in a moment. Tie them up again, Bevan, and let us be off to the lock-up.' So Bill soon loaded his man again, off we went, and trudged away about three miles to WWe walked into the lock-up, roused the sergeant of police on duty out of his doze, and as he was an old acquaintance, I took him on one side and told him the whole story. He at once said that he should lock them up on suspicion; and while he was doing this a man came up on horseback to say that a bootmaker's shop at the big town. across the moorland had been broken into, the owner nearly murdered, and a lot of boots and shoes carried off.

The two rogues were tried at the assizes, and got fourteen years' transportation. Bill and I kept our own counsel, and as we were not asked anything about mistaking the fellows for poachers, we did not let out that we had taken them into custody by accident; and my Lord Judge, after complimenting us highly for our gallant capture, as he called it, ordered us five pounds apiece out of the county chest.