CHAPTER II
ALLAN MAKES A BET
On the following morning Scroope and I arrived at Castle Ragnall ator about a quarter to ten. On our way we stopped to pick up my threehundred and fifty cartridges. I had to pay something over three solidsovereigns for them, as in those days such things were dear, whichshowed me that I was not going to get my lesson in English pheasantshooting for nothing. The gunsmith, however, to whom Scroope gave a liftin his cart to the castle, impressed upon me that they were dirt cheap,since he and his assistant had sat up most of the night loading themwith my special No. 3 shot.
As I climbed out of the vehicle a splendid-looking and portly person,arrayed in a velvet coat and a scarlet waistcoat, approached withthe air of an emperor, followed by an individual in whom I recognizedCharles, carrying a gun under each arm.
"That's the head-keeper," whispered Scroope; "mind you treat himrespectfully."
Much alarmed, I took off my hat and waited.
"Do I speak to Mr. Allan Quatermain?" said his majesty in a deep andrumbling voice, surveying me the while with a cold and disapproving eye.
I intimated that he did.
"Then, sir," he went on, pausing a little at the "sir," as though hesuspected me of being no more than an African colleague of his own, "Ihave been ordered by his lordship to bring you these guns, and I hope,sir, that you will be careful of them, as they are here on sale orreturn. Charles, explain the working of them there guns to this foreigngentleman, and in doing so keep the muzzles up _or_ down. They ain'tloaded, it's true, but the example is always useful."
"Thank you, Mr. Keeper," I replied, growing somewhat nettled, "but Ithink that I am already acquainted with most that there is to learnabout guns."
"I am glad to hear it, sir," said his majesty with evident disbelief."Charles, I understand that Squire Scroope is going to load for thegentleman, which I hope he knows how to do with safety. His lordship'sorders are that you accompany them and carry the cartridges. And,Charles, you will please keep count of the number fired and whatis killed dead, not reckoning runners. I'm sick of them stories ofrunners."
These directions were given in a portentous stage aside which we werenot supposed to hear. They caused Scroope to snigger and Charles togrin, but in me they raised a feeling of indignation.
I took one of the guns and looked at it. It was a costly and beautifullymade weapon of the period, with an under-lever action.
"There's nothing wrong with the gun, sir," rumbled Red Waistcoat. "Ifyou hold it straight it will do the rest. But keep the muzzle up, sir,keep it up, for I know what the bore is without studying the same withmy eye. Also perhaps you won't take it amiss if I tell you that here atRagnall we hates a low pheasant. I mention it because the last gentlemanwho came from foreign parts--he was French, he was--shot nothing all daybut one hen bird sitting just on the top of the brush, two beaters, hislordship's hat, and a starling."
At this point Scroope broke into a roar of idiotic laughter. Charles,from whom Fortune decreed that I was not to escape, after all, turnedhis back and doubled up as though seized with sudden pain in thestomach, and I grew absolutely furious.
"Confound it, Mr. Keeper," I explained, "what do you mean by lecturingme? Attend to your business, and I'll attend to mine."
At this moment who should appear from behind the angle of somebuilding--we were talking in the stableyard, near the gun-room--but LordRagnall himself. I could see that he had overheard the conversation, forhe looked angry.
"Jenkins," he said, addressing the keeper, "do what Mr. Quatermain hassaid and attend to your own business. Perhaps you are not aware that hehas shot more lions, elephants, and other big game than you have cats.But, however that may be, it is not your place to try to instruct him orany of my guests. Now go and see to the beaters."
"Beg pardon, my lord," ejaculated Jenkins, his face, that was as floridas his waistcoat, turning quite pale; "no offence meant, my lord, butelephants and lions don't fly, my lord, and those accustomed to suchground varmin are apt to shoot low, my lord. Beaters all ready at theHunt Copse, my lord."
Thus speaking he backed himself out of sight. Lord Ragnall watched himgo, then said with a laugh:
"I apologize to you, Mr. Quatermain. That silly old fool was part of myinheritance, so to speak; and the joke of it is that he is himself theworst and most dangerous shot I ever saw. However, on the other hand,he is the best rearer of pheasants in the county, so I put up withhim. Come in, now, won't you? Charles will look after your guns andcartridges."
So Scroope and I were taken through a side entrance into the big halland there introduced to the other members of the shooting party, most ofwhom were staying at the castle. They were famous shots. Indeed, Ihad read of the prowess of some of them in _The Field_, a paper that Ialways took in Africa, although often enough, when I was on my distantexpeditions, I did not see a copy of it for a year at a time.
To my astonishment I found that I knew one of these gentlemen. We hadnot, it is true, met for a dozen years; but I seldom forget a face,and I was sure that I could not be mistaken in this instance. That meanappearance, those small, shifty grey eyes, that red, pointed nose couldbelong to nobody except Van Koop, so famous in his day in South Africain connexion with certain gigantic and most successful frauds that thelaw seemed quite unable to touch, of which frauds I had been one of themany victims to the extent of L250, a large sum for me.
The last time we met there had been a stormy scene between us, whichended in my declaring in my wrath that if I came across him on the veldI should shoot him at sight. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Mr.van Koop vanished from South Africa, for I may add that he was a curof the first water. I believe that he had only just entered the room,having driven over from wherever he lived at some distance from Ragnall.At any rate, he knew nothing of my presence at this shoot. Had he knownI am quite sure that he would have been absent. He turned, and seeingme, ejaculated: "Allan Quatermain, by heaven!" beneath his breath, butin such a tone of astonishment that it attracted the attention of LordRagnall, who was standing near.
"Yes, Mr. van Koop," I answered in a cheerful voice, "Allan Quatermain,no other, and I hope you are as glad to see me as I am to see you."
"I think there is some mistake," said Lord Ragnall, staring at us. "Thisis Sir Junius Fortescue, who used to be Mr. Fortescue."
"Indeed," I replied. "I don't know that I ever remember his being calledby that particular name, but I do know that we are old--friends."
Lord Ragnall moved away as though he did not wish to continue theconversation, which no one else had overheard, and Van Koop sidled up tome.
"Mr. Quatermain," he said in a low voice, "circumstances have changedwith me since last we met."
"So I gather," I replied; "but mine have remained much the same, and ifit is convenient to you to repay me that L250 you owe me, with interest,I shall be much obliged. If not, I think I have a good story to tellabout you."
"Oh, Mr. Quatermain," he answered with a sort of smile which made mefeel inclined to kick him, "you know I dispute that debt."
"Do you?" I exclaimed. "Well, perhaps you will dispute the story also.But the question is, will you be believed when I give the proofs?"
"Ever heard of the Statute of Limitations, Mr. Quatermain?" he askedwith a sneer.
"Not where character is concerned," I replied stoutly. "Now, what areyou going to do?"
He reflected for a moment, and answered:
"Look here, Mr. Quatermain, you were always a bit of a sportsman, andI'll make you an offer. If I kill more birds than you do to-day, youshall promise to hold your tongue about my affairs in South Africa; andif you kill more than I do, you shall still hold your tongue, but I willpay you that L250 and interest for six years."
I also reflected for a moment, knowing that the man had something up hissleeve. Of course, I could refuse and make a scandal. But that was notin my line, and would not bring me nearer my L250, which, if I chancedto win, might find its way back to me.
"What is your bet, Sir Junius?" asked Lord Ragnall, who was approachingagain.
"It is rather a long story," he answered, "but, to put it shortly, yearsago, when I was travelling in Africa, Mr. Quatermain and I had a disputeas to a sum of L5 which he thought I owed him, and to save argumentabout a trifle we have agreed that I should shoot against him for itto-day."
"Indeed," said Lord Ragnall rather seriously, for I could see thathe did not believe Van Koop's statement as to the amount of the bet;perhaps he had heard more than we thought. "To be frank, Sir Junius, Idon't much care for betting--for that's what it comes to--here. Also Ithink Mr. Quatermain said yesterday that he had never shot pheasants inEngland, so the match seems scarcely fair. However, you gentlemen knowyour own business best. Only I must tell you both that if money isconcerned, I shall have to set someone whose decision will be final tocount your birds and report the number to me."
"Agreed," said Van Koop, or, rather, Sir Junius; but I answered nothing,for, to tell the truth, already I felt ashamed of the whole affair.
As it happened, Lord Ragnall and I walked together ahead of the others,to the first covert, which was half a mile or more away.
"You have met Sir Junius before?" he said to me interrogatively.
"I have met Mr. van Koop before," I answered, "about twelve yearssince, shortly after which he vanished from South Africa, where he was awell-known and very successful--speculator."
"To reappear here. Ten years ago he bought a large property in thisneighbourhood. Three years ago he became a baronet."
"How did a man like Van Koop become a baronet?" I inquired.
"By purchase, I believe."
"By purchase! Are honours in England purchased?"
"You are delightfully innocent, Mr. Quatermain, as a hunter from Africashould be," said Lord Ragnall, laughing. "Your friend----"
"Excuse me, Lord Ragnall, I am a very humble person, not so elevated,indeed, as that gamekeeper of yours; therefore I should not venture tocall Sir Junius, late Mr. van Koop, my friend, at least in earnest."
He laughed again.
"Well, the individual with whom you make bets subscribed largely to thefunds of his party. I am telling you what I know to be true, though theamount I do not know. It has been variously stated to be from fifteento fifty thousand pounds, and, perhaps by coincidence, subsequently wassomehow created a baronet."
I stared at him.
"That's all the story," he went on. "I don't like the man myself, but heis a wonderful pheasant shot, which passes him everywhere. Shooting hasbecome a kind of fetish in these parts, Mr. Quatermain. For instance, itis a tradition on this estate that we must kill more pheasants than onany other in the country, and therefore I have to ask the best guns, whoare not always the best fellows. It annoys me, but it seems that I mustdo what was done before me."
"Under those circumstances I should be inclined to give up the thingaltogether, Lord Ragnall. Sport as sport is good, but when it becomes abusiness it grows hateful. I know, who have had to follow it as a tradefor many years."
"That's an idea," he replied reflectively. "Meanwhile, I do hope thatyou will win back your--L5 from Sir Junius. He is so vain that I wouldgladly give L50 to see you do so."
"There is little chance of that," I said, "for, as I told you, I havenever shot pheasants before. Still, I'll try, as you wish it."
"That's right. And look here, Mr. Quatermain, shoot well forward ofthem. You see, I am venturing to advise you now, as you advised meyesterday. Shot does not travel so fast as ball, and the pheasant is abird that is generally going much quicker than you think. Now, here weare. Charles will show you your stand. Good luck to you."
Ten minutes later the game began outside of a long covert, all theseven guns being posted within sight of each other. So occupied was I inwatching the preliminaries, which were quite new to me, that I allowedfirst a hare and then a hen pheasant to depart without firing at them,which hen pheasant, by the way, curved round and was beautifully killedby Van Koop, who stood two guns off upon my right.
"Look here, Allan," said Scroope, "if you are going to beat your Africanfriend you had better wake up, for you won't do it by admiring thescenery or that squirrel on a tree."
So I woke up. Just at that moment there was a cry of "cock forward."I thought it meant a cock pheasant, and was astonished when I saw abeautiful brown bird with a long beak flitting towards me through thetops of the oak trees.
"Am I to shoot at that?" I asked.
"Of course. It is a woodcock," answered Scroope.
By this time the brown bird was rocking past me within ten yards. Ifired and killed it, for where it had been appeared nothing but a cloudof feathers. It was a quick and clever shot, or so I thought. But whenCharles stepped out and picked from the ground only a beak and a head, atitter of laughter went down the whole line of guns and loaders.
"I say, old chap," said Scroope, "if you will use No. 3 shot, let yourbirds get a little farther off you."
The incident upset me so much that immediately afterwards I missed threeeasy pheasants in succession, while Van Koop added two to his bag.
Scroope shook his head and Charles groaned audibly. Now that I was notin competition with his master he had become suddenly anxious that Ishould win, for in some mysterious way the news of that bet had spread,and my adversary was not popular amongst the keeper class.
"Here you come again," said Scroope, pointing to an advancing pheasant.
It was an extraordinarily high pheasant, flushed, I think, outside thecovert by a stop, so high that, as it travelled down the line, althoughthree guns fired at it, including Van Koop, none of them seemed to touchit. Then I fired, and remembering Lord Ragnall's advice, far in front.Its flight changed. Still it travelled through the air, but with themomentum of a stone to fall fifty yards to my right, dead.
"That's better!" said Scroope, while Charles grinned all over his roundface, muttering:
"Wiped his eye that time."
This shot seemed to give me confidence, and I improved considerably,though, oddly enough, I found that it was the high and difficultpheasants which I killed and the easy ones that I was apt to muff. ButVan Koop, who was certainly a finished artist, killed both.
At the next stand Lord Ragnall, who had been observing my somewhatindifferent performance, asked me to stand back with him behind theother guns.
"I see the tall ones are your line, Mr. Quatermain," he said, "and youwill get some here."
On this occasion we were placed in a dip between two long coverts whichlay about three hundred yards apart. That which was being beaten provedfull of pheasants, and the shooting of those picked guns was really athing to see. I did quite well here, nearly, but not altogether, as wellas Lord Ragnall himself, though that is saying a great deal, for he wasa lovely shot.
"Bravo!" he said at the end of the beat. "I believe you have got achance of winning your L5, after all."
When, however, at luncheon, more than an hour later, I found that Iwas thirty pheasants behind my adversary, I shook my head, and so dideverybody else. On the whole, that luncheon, of which we partook ina keeper's house, was a very pleasant meal, though Van Koop talked socontinuously and in such a boastful strain that I saw it irritated ourhost and some of the other gentlemen, who were very pleasant people. Atlast he began to patronize me, asking me how I had been getting on withmy "elephant-potting" of late years.
I replied, "Fairly well."
"Then you should tell our friends some of your famous stories, whichI promise I won't contradict," he said, adding: "You see, they aredifferent from us, and have no experience of big-game shooting."
"I did not know that you had any, either, Sir Junius," I answered,nettled. "Indeed, I thought I remembered your telling me in Africa thatthe only big game you had ever shot was an ox sick with the red-water.Anyway, shooting is a business with me, not an amusement, as it is toyou, and I do not talk shop."
At this he collapsed am
id some laughter, after which Scroope, the mostloyal of friends, began to repeat exploits of mine till my ears tingled,and I rose and went outside to look at the weather.
It had changed very much during luncheon. The fair promise of themorning had departed, the sky was overcast, and a wind, blowing instrong gusts, was rising rapidly, driving before it occasional scurriesof snow.
"My word," said Lord Ragnall, who had joined me, "the Lakecovert--that's our great stand here, you know--will take some shootingthis afternoon. We ought to kill seven hundred pheasants in it with thisteam, but I doubt if we shall get five. Now, Mr. Quatermain, I am goingto stand Sir Junius Fortescue and you back in the covert, where youwill have the best of it, as a lot of pheasants will never face the lakeagainst this wind. What is more, I am coming with you, if I may, assix guns are enough for this beat, and I don't mean to shoot any moreto-day."
"I fear that you will be disappointed," I said nervously.
"Oh, no, I sha'n't," he answered. "I tell you frankly that if only youcould have a season's practice, in my opinion you would make the bestpheasant shot of the lot of us. At present you don't quite understandthe ways of the birds, that's all; also those guns are strange to you.Have a glass of cherry brandy; it will steady your nerves."
I drank the cherry brandy, and presently off we went. The covert wewere going to shoot, into which we had been driving pheasants all themorning, must have been nearly a mile long. At the top end it was broad,narrowing at the bottom to a width of about two hundred yards. Here itran into a horse-shoe shaped piece of water that was about fifty yardsin breadth. Four of the guns were placed round the bow of this water,but on its farther side, in such a position that the pheasants shouldstream over them to yet another covert behind at the top of a slope, VanKoop and I, however, were ordered to take our places, he to the rightand I to the left, about seventy yards up the tongue in little glades inthe woodland, having the lake to our right and our left respectively.I noticed with dismay that we were so set that the guns below us onits farther side could note all that we did or did not do; also that alittle band of watchers, among whom I recognized my friend the gunsmith,were gathered in a place where, without interfering with us, they couldsee the sport. On our way to the boat, however, which was to row usacross the water, an incident happened that put me in very good spiritsand earned some applause.
I was walking with Lord Ragnall, Scroope and Charles, about sixty yardsclear of a belt of tall trees, when from far away on the other side ofthe trees came a cry of "Partridges over!" in the hoarse voice of thered-waistcoated Jenkins, who was engaged in superintending the drivingin of some low scrub before he joined his army at the top of the covert.
"Look out, Mr. Quatermain, they are coming this way," said Lord Ragnall,while Charles thrust a loaded gun into my hand.
Another moment and they appeared over the tree-tops, a big covey of themin a long, straggling line, travelling at I know not what speed, for afierce gust from the rising gale had caught them. I fired at the firstbird, which fell at my feet. I fired again, and another fell behind me.I snatched up the second gun and killed a third as it passed over mehigh up. Then, wheeling round, I covered the last retreating bird, andlo! it too fell, a very long shot indeed.
"By George!" said Scroope, "I never saw that done before," while Ragnallstared and Charles whistled.
But now I will tell the truth and expose all my weakness. The secondbird was not the one I aimed at. I was behind it and caught that whichfollowed. And in my vanity I did not own up, at least not till thatevening.
The four dead partridges--there was not a runner among them--having beencollected amidst many congratulations, we went on and were punted acrossthe lake to the covert. As we entered the boat I observed that, inaddition to the great bags, Charles was carrying a box of cartridgesunder his arm, and asked him where he got it from.
He replied, from Mr. Popham--that was the gunsmith's name--who hadbrought it with him in case I should not have enough. I made no remark,but as I knew I had quite half of my cartridges left out of the threehundred and fifty that I had bought, I wondered to myself what kind of ashoot this was going to be.
Well, we took up our stands, and while we were doing so, suddenly thewind increased to a tearing gale, which seemed to me to blow from allpoints of the compass in turn. Rooks flying homewards, and pigeonsdisturbed by the beaters were swept over us like drifting leaves; wildduck, of which I got one, went by like arrows; the great bare oakstossed their boughs and groaned; while not far off a fir tree was blowndown, falling with a splash into the water.
"It's a wild afternoon," said Lord Ragnall, and as he spoke Van Koopcame from his stand, looking rather scared, and suggested that the shootshould be given up.
Lord Ragnall asked me what I wished to do. I replied that I would rathergo on, but that I was in his hands.
"I think we are fairly safe in these open places, Sir Junius," he said;"and as the pheasants have been so much disturbed already, it does notmuch matter if they are blown about a bit. But if you are of anotheropinion, perhaps you had better get out of it and stand with the othersover the lake. I'll send for my guns and take your place."
On hearing this Van Koop changed his mind and said that he would go on.
So the beat began. At first the wind blew from behind us, and pheasantsin increasing numbers passed over our heads, most of them rather low,to the guns on the farther side of the water, who, skilled though theywere, did not make very good work with them. We had been instructed notto fire at birds going forward, so I let these be. Van Koop, however,did not interpret the order in the same spirit, for he loosed atseveral, killing one or two and missing others.
"That fellow is no sportsman," I heard Lord Ragnall remark. "I supposeit is the bet."
Then he sent Charles to ask him to desist.
Shortly after this the gale worked round to the north and settled there,blowing with ever-increasing violence. The pheasants, however, stillflew forward in the shelter of the trees, for they were making for thecovert on the hill, where they had been bred. But when they got into theopen and felt the full force of the wind, quite four out of six ofthem turned and came back at a most fearful pace, many so high as to bealmost out of shot.
For the next three-quarters of an hour or more--as I think I haveexplained, the beat was a very long one--I had such covert shooting asI suppose I shall never see again. High above those shrieking trees,or over the lake to my left, flashed the wind-driven pheasants in anendless procession. Oddly enough, I found that this wild work suited me,for as time went on and the pheasants grew more and more impossible, Ishot better and better. One after another down they came far behind mewith a crash in the brushwood or a splash in the lake, till theguns grew almost too hot to hold. There were so many of them that Idiscovered I could pick my shots; also that nine out of ten were caughtby the wind and curved at a certain angle, and that the time to fire wasjust before they took the curve. The excitement was great and thesport splendid, as anyone will testify who has shot December pheasantsbreaking back over the covert and in a tearing gale. Van Koop alsowas doing very well, but the guns in front got comparatively littleshooting. They were forced to stand there, poor fellows, and watch ourperformance from afar.
As the thing drew towards an end the birds came thicker and thicker, andI shot, as I have said, better and better. This may be judged from thefact that, notwithstanding their height and tremendous pace, I killedmy last thirty pheasants with thirty-five cartridges. The final birdof all, a splendid cock, appeared by himself out of nothingness when wethought that all was done. I think it must have been flushed from thecovert on the hill, or been turned back just as it reached it by theresistless strength of the storm. Over it came, so high above us that itlooked quite small in the dark snow-scud.
"Too far--no use!" said Lord Ragnall, as I lifted the gun.
Still, I fired, holding I know not how much in front, and lo! thatpheasant died in mid air, falling with a mighty splash near the bank ofthe lake, but at
a great distance behind us. The shot was so remarkablethat everyone who saw it, including most of the beaters, who had passedus by now, uttered a cheer, and the red-waistcoated old Jenkins, who hadstopped by us, remarked: "Well, bust me if that bain't a master one!"
Scroope made me angry by slapping me so hard upon the back that it hurt,and nearly caused me to let off the other barrel of the gun. Charlesseemed to become one great grin, and Lord Ragnall, with a briefcongratulatory "Never enjoyed a shoot so much in my life," called to themen who were posted behind us to pick up all the dead pheasants, beingcareful to keep mine apart from those of Sir Junius Fortescue.
"You should have a hundred and forty-three at this stand," he said,"allowing for every possible runner. Charles and I make the same total."
I remarked that I did not think there were many runners, as the No. 3shot had served me very well, and getting into the boat was rowed to theother side, where I received more congratulations. Then, as all furthershooting was out of the question because of the weather, we walked backto the castle to tea.
As I emptied my cup Lord Ragnall, who had left the room, returned andasked us to come and see the game. So we went, to find it laid out inendless lines upon the snow-powdered grass in the quadrangle of thecastle, arranged in one main and two separate lots.
"Those are yours and Sir Junius's," said Scroope. "I wonder which of youhas won. I'll put a sovereign on you, old fellow."
"Then you're a donkey for your pains," I answered, feeling vexed, for atthat moment I had forgotten all about the bet.
I do not remember how many pheasants were killed altogether, but thetotal was much smaller than had been hoped for, because of the gale.
"Jenkins," said Lord Ragnall presently to Red Waistcoat, "how many haveyou to the credit of Sir Junius Fortescue?"
"Two hundred and seventy-seven, my lord, twelve hares, two woodcocks,and three pigeons."
"And how many to that of Mr. Quatermain?" adding: "I must remindyou both, gentlemen, that the birds have been picked as carefully aspossible and kept unmixed, and therefore that the figures given byJenkins must be considered as final."
"Quite so," I answered, but Van Koop said nothing. Then, while we allwaited anxiously, came the amazing answer:
"Two hundred and seventy-seven pheasants, my lord, same number as thoseof Sir Junius, Bart., fifteen hares, three pigeons, four partridges, oneduck, and a beak--I mean a woodcock."
"Then it seems you have won your L5, Mr. Quatermain, upon which Icongratulate you," said Lord Ragnall.
"Stop a minute," broke in Van Koop. "The bet was as to pheasants; theother things don't count."
"I think the term used was 'birds,'" I remarked. "But to be frank, whenI made it I was thinking of pheasants, as no doubt Sir Junius was also.Therefore, if the counting is correct, there is a dead heat and thewager falls through."
"I am sure we all appreciate the view you take of the matter," said LordRagnall, "for it might be argued another way. In these circumstances SirJunius keeps his L5 in his pocket. It is unlucky for you, Quatermain,"he added, dropping the "mister," "that the last high pheasant you shotcan't be found. It fell into the lake, you remember, and, I suppose,swam ashore and ran."
"Yes," I replied, "especially as I could have sworn that it was quitedead."
"So could I, Quatermain; but the fact remains that it isn't there."
"If we had all the pheasants that we think fall dead our bags wouldbe much bigger than they are," remarked Van Koop, with a look of greatrelief upon his face, adding in his horrid, patronizing way: "Still,you shot uncommonly well, Quatermain. I'd no idea you would run me soclose."
I felt inclined to answer, but didn't. Only Lord Ragnall said:
"Mr. Quatermain shot more than well. His performance in the Lake covertwas the most brilliant that I have ever seen. When you went in theretogether, Sir Junius, you were thirty ahead of him, and you firedseventeen more cartridges at the stand."
Then, just as we turned to go, something happened. The round-eyedCharles ran puffing into the quadrangle, followed by another man witha dog, who had been specially set to pick my birds, and carrying in hishand a much-bedraggled cock pheasant without a tail.
"I've got him, my lord," he gasped, for he had run very fast; "thelittle gent's--I mean that which he killed in the clouds with the lastshot he fired. It had gone right down into the mud and stuck there. Tomand me fished him up with a pole."
Lord Ragnall took the bird and looked at it. It was almost cold, butevidently freshly killed, for the limbs were quite flexible.
"That turns the scale in favour of Mr. Quatermain," he said, "so, SirJunius, you had better pay your money and congratulate him, as I do."
"I protest," exclaimed Van Koop, looking very angry and meaner thanusual. "How am I to know that this was Mr. Quatermain's pheasant? Thesum involved is more than L5 and I feel it is my duty to protest."
"Because my men say so, Sir Junius; moreover, seeing the height fromwhich the bird fell, their story is obviously true."
Then he examined the pheasant further, pointing out that it appearedto have only one wound--a shot through the throat almost exactly at theroot of the beak, of which shot there was no mark of exit. "What sizedshot were you using, Sir Junius?" he asked.
"No. 4 at the last stand."
"And you were using No. 3, Mr. Quatermain. Now, was any other gun usingNo. 3?"
All shook their heads.
"Jenkins, open that bird's head. I think the shot that killed it will befound in the brain."
Jenkins obeyed, using a penknife cleverly enough. Pressed against thebone of the skull he found the shot.
"No. 3 it is, sure enough, my lord," he said.
"You will agree that settles the matter, Sir Junius," said Lord Ragnall."And now, as a bet has been made here it had better be paid."
"I have not enough money on me," said Van Koop sulkily.
"I think your banker is mine," said Lord Ragnall quietly, "so you canwrite a cheque in the house. Come in, all of you, it is cold in thiswind."
So we went into the smoking-room, and Lord Ragnall, who, I could see,was annoyed, instantly fetched a blank cheque from his study and handedit to Van Koop in rather a pointed manner.
He took it, and turning to me, said:
"I remember the capital sum, but how much is the interest? Sorry totrouble you, but I am not very good at figures."
"Then you must have changed a good deal during the last twelve years,Sir Junius," I could not help saying. "Still, never mind the interest, Ishall be quite satisfied with the principal."
So he filled up the cheque for L250 and threw it down on the tablebefore me, saying something about its being a bother to mix up businesswith pleasure.
I took the draft, saw that it was correct though rather illegible, andproceeded to dry it by waving it in the air. As I did so it came into mymind that I would not touch the money of this successful scamp, won backfrom him in such a way.
Yielding to a perhaps foolish impulse, I said:
"Lord Ragnall, this cheque is for a debt which years ago I wrote offas lost. At luncheon to-day you were talking of a Cottage Hospital forwhich you are trying to get up an endowment fund in this neighbourhood,and in answer to a question from you Sir Junius Fortescue said that hehad not as yet made any subscription to its fund. Will you allow me tohand you Sir Junius's subscription--to be entered in his name, if youplease?" And I passed him the cheque, which was drawn to myself orbearer.
He looked at the amount, and seeing that it was not L5, but L250,flushed, then asked:
"What do you say to this act of generosity on the part of Mr.Quatermain, Sir Junius?"
There was no answer, because Sir Junius had gone. I never saw himagain, for years ago the poor man died quite disgraced. His passion forsemi-fraudulent speculations reasserted itself, and he became a bankruptin conditions which caused him to leave the country for America, wherehe was killed in a railway accident while travelling as an immigrant. Ihave heard, however, that he was n
ot asked to shoot at Ragnall any more.
The cheque was passed to the credit of the Cottage Hospital, but not, asI had requested, as a subscription from Sir Junius Fortescue. A coupleof years later, indeed, I learned that this sum of money was used tobuild a little room in that institution to accommodate sick children,which room was named the Allan Quatermain ward.
Now, I have told this story of that December shoot because it was thebeginning of my long and close friendship with Ragnall.
When he found that Van Koop had gone away without saying good-bye, LordRagnall made no remark. Only he took my hand and shook it.
I have only to add that, although, except for the element of competitionwhich entered into it, I enjoyed this day's shooting very much indeed,when I came to count up its cost I felt glad that I had not beenasked to any more such entertainments. Here it is, taken from an oldnote-book:
Cartridges, including those not used and given to Charles L4 0 0 Game License 3 0 0 Tip to Red Waistcoat (keeper) 2 0 0 Tip to Charles 0 10 0 Tip to man who helped Charles to find pheasant 0 5 0 Tip to man who collected pheasants behind me 0 10 0 --------- L10 5 0 ---------
Truly pheasant shooting in England is, or was, a sport for the rich!
The Ivory Child Page 2