"Well, come away," said Osmond; "this is a great deal too near old
Grice's farm-yard. If we go popping about here, we shall have him
out upon us, for an old tiger as he is!"
"Come along, then," said Martin.
But Hal had just got the gun, and saw something so black and shiny
through the hedge, that he was persuaded that a flock of rooks were
feeding in the next field, and he fired!
Such a cackling and screeching as arose! and with it one dying
gobble, and a very loud "Hollo! you rascal!"
"My eyes! you've been and gone and done it!" cried Osmond.
"Cut! cut!" screamed Martin; and Hal, not exactly knowing what he had
done, but sure that it was something dreadful, and hearing voices in
pursuit, threw down the gun, and took to his heels; but the others
had the start of him, and were over the gap long before he could get
to it. And even as he did reach it, a hand was on his throat, almost
choking him, and a tremendous voice cried, "You young poacher, you
sha'n't get off that way! I'll have you up to the Bench, that I
will, for shooting the poor old turkey-cock before my very eyes.
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