The Poacher | Page 7

well supplied
in the sunnier months, for the fine weather was the time for the wearing
of gay ribbons; but in the winter he travelled more to receive orders, or
to carry away the game supplied to him by the poachers, with whom he
was in league. Had his box been examined during the shooting season,
it would have been found loaded with pheasants, not with trinkets and
ribbons. It need hardly be observed after this that Byres was the party
who took off the hands of Rushbrook all the game which he procured,
and which he had notice to call for before daylight, generally the
second morning after it had been obtained; for Rushbrook was too
cautious to trust Byres with his secret, that of never going out of a night
without having previously pretended intoxication, and having suffered
himself to be led or carried home.
Our readers will acknowledge that little Joey was placed in a very
dangerous position; it is true that he was not aware that he was doing
wrong in assisting his father; nevertheless, being a reflective boy, it did
sometimes occur to him that it was odd that what was right should be
done so secretly; and he attempted to make out how it was that the
birds that flew about everywhere, and appeared to belong to every one,

might not be shot in the open day. He knew that the laws forbade it; but
he inquired of himself why such laws should be. Joey had heard but
one side of the question, and was therefore puzzled. It was fortunate for
him that the pastor of the parish, although he did not reside in it, did at
least once a week call in at Mr F's school, and examine the boys. Mr
Furness, who was always sober during the school hours, was very
proud of these visits, and used to point out little Joey as his most
promising scholar. This induced the pastor to take more immediate
notice of our hero, and the commendation which he received, and the
advice that was bestowed upon him, was probably the great cause why
Joey did attend assiduously to his lessons, which his otherwise vagrant
life would have disinclined him to do; and also kept a character for
honesty and good principle, which he really deserved. Indeed, his father
and mother, setting aside poaching, and the secrecy resorted to in
consequence, were by no means bad examples in the ordinary course of
life; they did to their neighbours as they would be done by, were fair
and honest in their dealings, and invariably inculcated probity and a
regard to truth on their son. This may appear anomalous to many of our
readers, but there are many strange anomalies in this world. It may
therefore be stated in a very few words, that although our little hero had
every chance of eventually following the road to ruin, yet, up to the
present time, he had not entered it.
Such was the life led by little Joey for three years subsequent to our
introduction of him to the reader; every day he became more useful to
his father; latterly he had not attended school but in the forenoon, for,
as we have before observed, Joey could, from his diminutive size and
unsuspicious appearance, do much that his father would not have
ventured to attempt. He was as well versed in the art of snaring as his
father, and sauntering like a child about the fields and hedge-rows,
would examine his nooses, take out the game, and hide it till he could
bring it home. Sometimes he would go out at night attended only by
Mum, and the dog would invariably give him mute notice, by simply
standing with his ears and tail erect, when the keepers had discovered
the snares, and were lying in wait for the poacher, to lay hold of him
when he came to ascertain his success. Even in such a case, Joey very
often would not retreat, but, crawling on his stomach, would arrive at

the snare, and take out the animal without the keepers perceiving him;
for their eyes were invariably directed to the horizon, watching the
appearance of some stout figure of a man, while Joey crawled along,
bearing away the prize unseen. At other times, Joey would reap a rich
harvest in the broad day, by means of his favourite game-cock. Having
put on the animal his steel spurs, he would plunge into the thickest of
the cover, and, selecting some small spot of cleared ground for the
combat, he would throw down his gallant bird, and conceal himself in
the brushwood; the game-cock would immediately crow, and his
challenge was immediately answered by the pugnacious male pheasant,
who flew down to meet him: