The Ivory Child

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Thus speaking he backed himself out of sight. Lord Ragnall watched him
go, then said with a laugh:

"I apologize to you, Mr. Quatermain. That silly old fool was part of my
inheritance, so to speak; and the joke of it is that he is himself the
worst 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 with
him. Come in, now, won't you? Charles will look after your guns and
cartridges."

So Scroope and I were taken through a side entrance into the big hall
and there introduced to the other members of the shooting party, most of
whom were staying at the castle. They were famous shots. Indeed, I
had read of the prowess of some of them in _The Field_, a paper that I
always took in Africa, although often enough, when I was on my distant
expeditions, 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 had
not, 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 mean
appearance, those small, shifty grey eyes, that red, pointed nose could
belong to nobody except Van Koop, so famous in his day in South Africa
in connexion with certain gigantic and most successful frauds that the
law seemed quite unable to touch, of which frauds I had been one of the
many victims to the extent of L250, a large sum for me.

The last time we met there had been a stormy scene between us, which
ended in my declaring in my wrath that if I came across him on the veld
I 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 cur
of 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 known
I am quite sure that he would have been absent. He turned, and seeing
me, ejaculated: "Allan Quatermain, by heaven!" beneath his breath, but
in such a tone of astonishment that it attracted the attention of Lord
Ragnall, 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. "This
is Sir Junius Fortescue, who used to be Mr. Fortescue."

"Indeed," I replied. "I don't know that I ever remember his being called
by that particular name, but I do know that we are old--friends."

Lord Ragnall moved away as though he did not wish to continue the
conversation, which no one else had overheard, and Van Koop sidled up to
me.

"Mr. Quatermain," he said in a low voice, "circumstances have changed
with me since last we met."

"So I gather," I replied; "but mine have remained much the same, and if
it 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 tell
about you."

"Oh, Mr. Quatermain," he answered with a sort of smile which made me
feel 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 asked
with a sneer.

"Not where character is concerned," I replied stoutly. "Now, what are
you going to do?"

He reflected for a moment, and answered:

"Look here, Mr. Quatermain, you were always a bit of a sportsman, and
I'll make you an offer. If I kill more birds than you do to-day, you
shall promise to hold your tongue about my affairs in South Africa; and
if you kill more than I do, you shall still hold your tongue, but I will
pay you that L250 and interest for six years."

I also reflected for a moment, knowing that the man had something up his
sleeve. Of course, I could refuse and make a scandal. But that was not
in my line, and would not bring me nearer my L250, which, if I chanced
to win, might find its way back to me.

"All right, done!" I said.

"What is your bet, Sir Junius?" asked Lord Ragnall, who was approaching
again.

"It is rather a long story," he answered, "but, to put it shortly, years
ago, when I was travelling in Africa, Mr. Quatermain and I had a dispute
as to a sum of L5 which he thought I owed him, and to save argument
about a trifle we have agreed that I should shoot against him for it
to-day."

"Indeed," said Lord Ragnall rather seriously, for I could see that
he 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, I
don't much care for betting--for that's what it comes to--here. Also I
think Mr. Quatermain said yesterday that he had never shot pheasants in
England, so the match seems scarcely fair. However, you gentlemen know
your own business best. Only I must tell you both that if money is
concerned, I shall have to set someone whose decision will be final to
count 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 years
since, shortly after which he vanished from South Africa, where he was a
well-known and very successful--speculator."

"To reappear here. Ten years ago he bought a large property in this
neighbourhood. 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 Africa
should 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 to
call 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 the
funds of his party. I am telling you what I know to be true, though the
amount I do not know. It has been variously stated to be from fifteen
to fifty thousand pounds, and, perhaps by coincidence, subsequently was
somehow created a baronet."

I stared at him.

"That's all the story," he went on. "I don't like the man myself, but he
is a wonderful pheasant shot, which passes him everywhere. Shooting has
become a kind of fetish in these parts, Mr. Quatermain. For instance, it
is a tradition on this estate that we must kill more pheasants than on
any other in the country, and therefore I have to ask the best guns, who
are not always the best fellows. It annoys me, but it seems that I must
do what was done before me."

"Under those circumstances I should be inclined to give up the thing
altogether, Lord Ragnall. Sport as sport is good, but when it becomes a
business it grows hateful. I know, who have had to follow it as a trade
for many years."

"That's an idea," he replied reflectively. "Meanwhile, I do hope that
you will win back your--L5 from Sir Junius. He is so vain that I would
gladly give L50 to see you do so."

"There is little chance of that," I said, "for, as I told you, I have
never shot pheasants before. Still, I'll try, as you wish it."

"That's right. And look here, Mr. Quatermain, shoot well forward of
them. You see, I am venturing to advise you now, as you advised me
yesterday. Shot does not travel so fast as ball, and the pheasant is a
bird that is generally going much quicker than you think. Now, here we
are. Charles will show you your stand. Good luck to you."

Ten minutes later the game began outside of a long covert, all the
seven guns being posted within sight of each other. So occupied was I in
watching the preliminaries, which were quite new to me, that I allowed
first a hare and then a hen pheasant to depart without firing at them,
which hen pheasant, by the way, curved round and was beautifully killed
by Van Koop, who stood two guns off upon my right.

"Look here, Allan," said Scroope, "if you are going to beat your African
friend you had better wake up, for you won't do it by admiring the
scenery 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 a
beautiful brown bird with a long beak flitting towards me through the
tops 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. I
fired and killed it, for where it had been appeared nothing but a cloud
of feathers. It was a quick and clever shot, or so I thought. But when
Charles stepped out and picked from the ground only a beak and a head, a
titter 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 your
birds get a little farther off you."

The incident upset me so much that immediately afterwards I missed three
easy pheasants in succession, while Van Koop added two to his bag.

Scroope shook his head and Charles groaned audibly. Now that I was not
in competition with his master he had become suddenly anxious that I
should 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 the
covert by a stop, so high that, as it travelled down the line, although
three guns fired at it, including Van Koop, none of them seemed to touch
it. Then I fired, and remembering Lord Ragnall's advice, far in front.
Its flight changed. Still it travelled through the air, but with the
momentum of a stone to fall fifty yards to my right, dead.

"That's better!" said Scroope, while Charles grinned all over his round
face, 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 difficult
pheasants which I killed and the easy ones that I was apt to muff. But
Van Koop, who was certainly a finished artist, killed both.

At the next stand Lord Ragnall, who had been observing my somewhat
indifferent performance, asked me to stand back with him behind the
other guns.

"I see the tall ones are your line, Mr. Quatermain," he said, "and you
will get some here."

On this occasion we were placed in a dip between two long coverts which
lay about three hundred yards apart. That which was being beaten proved
full of pheasants, and the shooting of those picked guns was really a
thing to see. I did quite well here, nearly, but not altogether, as well
as Lord Ragnall himself, though that is saying a great deal, for he was
a lovely shot.

"Bravo!" he said at the end of the beat. "I believe you have got a
chance of winning your L5, after all."

When, however, at luncheon, more than an hour later, I found that I
was thirty pheasants behind my adversary, I shook my head, and so did
everybody else. On the whole, that luncheon, of which we partook in
a keeper's house, was a very pleasant meal, though Van Koop talked so
continuously and in such a boastful strain that I saw it irritated our
host and some of the other gentlemen, who were very pleasant people. At
last he began to patronize me, asking me how I had been getting on with
my "elephant-potting" of late years.

I replied, "Fairly well."

"Then you should tell our friends some of your famous stories, which
I promise I won't contradict," he said, adding: "You see, they are
different 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 that
the 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 to
you, and I do not talk shop."

At this he collapsed amid some laughter, after which Scroope, the most
loyal 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 the
morning had departed, the sky was overcast, and a wind, blowing in
strong gusts, was rising rapidly, driving before it occasional scurries
of snow.

"My word," said Lord Ragnall, who had joined me, "the Lake
covert--that's our great stand here, you know--will take some shooting
this afternoon. We ought to kill seven hundred pheasants in it with this
team, but I doubt if we shall get five. Now, Mr. Quatermain, I am going
to stand Sir Junius Fortescue and you back in the covert, where you
will have the best of it, as a lot of pheasants will never face the lake
against this wind. What is more, I am coming with you, if I may, as
six guns are enough for this beat, and I don't mean to shoot any more
to-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 you
could have a season's practice, in my opinion you would make the best
pheasant shot of the lot of us. At present you don't quite understand
the 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 we
were going to shoot, into which we had been driving pheasants all the
morning, 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 it
ran into a horse-shoe shaped piece of water that was about fifty yards
in 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 should
stream over them to yet another covert behind at the top of a slope, Van
Koop and I, however, were ordered to take our places, he to the right
and I to the left, about seventy yards up the tongue in little glades in
the 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 on
its farther side could note all that we did or did not do; also that a
little band of watchers, among whom I recognized my friend the gunsmith,
were gathered in a place where, without interfering with us, they could
see the sport. On our way to the boat, however, which was to row us
across the water, an incident happened that put me in very good spirits
and earned some applause.

I was walking with Lord Ragnall, Scroope and Charles, about sixty yards
clear of a belt of tall trees, when from far away on the other side of
the trees came a cry of "Partridges over!" in the hoarse voice of the
red-waistcoated Jenkins, who was engaged in superintending the driving
in 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 them
in a long, straggling line, travelling at I know not what speed, for a
fierce gust from the rising gale had caught them. I fired at the first
bird, 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 me
high up. Then, wheeling round, I covered the last retreating bird, and
lo! it too fell, a very long shot indeed.

"By George!" said Scroope, "I never saw that done before," while Ragnall
stared and Charles whistled.

But now I will tell the truth and expose all my weakness. The second
bird was not the one I aimed at. I was behind it and caught that which
followed. And in my vanity I did not own up, at least not till that
evening.

The four dead partridges--there was not a runner among them--having been
collected amidst many congratulations, we went on and were punted across
the lake to the covert. As we entered the boat I observed that, in
addition to the great bags, Charles was carrying a box of cartridges
under his arm, and asked him where he got it from.

He replied, from Mr. Popham--that was the gunsmith's name--who had
brought 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 three
hundred and fifty that I had bought, I wondered to myself what kind of a
shoot this was going to be.

Well, we took up our stands, and while we were doing so, suddenly the
wind increased to a tearing gale, which seemed to me to blow from all
points of the compass in turn. Rooks flying homewards, and pigeons
disturbed by the beaters were swept over us like drifting leaves; wild
duck, of which I got one, went by like arrows; the great bare oaks
tossed their boughs and groaned; while not far off a fir tree was blown
down, falling with a splash into the water.

"It's a wild afternoon," said Lord Ragnall, and as he spoke Van Koop
came from his stand, looking rather scared, and suggested that the shoot
should be given up.

Lord Ragnall asked me what I wished to do. I replied that I would rather
go 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 not
much matter if they are blown about a bit. But if you are of another
opinion, perhaps you had better get out of it and stand with the others
over 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 pheasants
in increasing numbers passed over our heads, most of them rather low,
to the guns on the farther side of the water, who, skilled though they
were, did not make very good work with them. We had been instructed not
to 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 at
several, killing one or two and missing others.

"That fellow is no sportsman," I heard Lord Ragnall remark. "I suppose
it 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, still
flew forward in the shelter of the trees, for they were making for the
covert on the hill, where they had been bred. But when they got into the
open and felt the full force of the wind, quite four out of six of
them turned and came back at a most fearful pace, many so high as to be
almost out of shot.

For the next three-quarters of an hour or more--as I think I have
explained, the beat was a very long one--I had such covert shooting as
I suppose I shall never see again. High above those shrieking trees,
or over the lake to my left, flashed the wind-driven pheasants in an
endless procession. Oddly enough, I found that this wild work suited me,
for as time went on and the pheasants grew more and more impossible, I
shot better and better. One after another down they came far behind me
with a crash in the brushwood or a splash in the lake, till the
guns grew almost too hot to hold. There were so many of them that I
discovered I could pick my shots; also that nine out of ten were caught
by the wind and curved at a certain angle, and that the time to fire was
just before they took the curve. The excitement was great and the
sport splendid, as anyone will testify who has shot December pheasants
breaking back over the covert and in a tearing gale. Van Koop also
was doing very well, but the guns in front got comparatively little
shooting. They were forced to stand there, poor fellows, and watch our
performance from afar.

As the thing drew towards an end the birds came thicker and thicker, and
I shot, as I have said, better and better. This may be judged from the
fact that, notwithstanding their height and tremendous pace, I killed
my last thirty pheasants with thirty-five cartridges. The final bird
of all, a splendid cock, appeared by himself out of nothingness when we
thought that all was done. I think it must have been flushed from the
covert on the hill, or been turned back just as it reached it by the
resistless strength of the storm. Over it came, so high above us that it
looked 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! that
pheasant died in mid air, falling with a mighty splash near the bank of
the lake, but at a great distance behind us. The shot was so remarkable
that everyone who saw it, including most of the beaters, who had passed
us by now, uttered a cheer, and the red-waistcoated old Jenkins, who had
stopped 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. Charles
seemed to become one great grin, and Lord Ragnall, with a brief
congratulatory "Never enjoyed a shoot so much in my life," called to the
men who were posted behind us to pick up all the dead pheasants, being
careful 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. 3
shot had served me very well, and getting into the boat was rowed to the
other side, where I received more congratulations. Then, as all further
shooting was out of the question because of the weather, we walked back
to the castle to tea.

As I emptied my cup Lord Ragnall, who had left the room, returned and
asked us to come and see the game. So we went, to find it laid out in
endless lines upon the snow-powdered grass in the quadrangle of the
castle, arranged in one main and two separate lots.

"Those are yours and Sir Junius's," said Scroope. "I wonder which of you
has won. I'll put a sovereign on you, old fellow."

"Then you're a donkey for your pains," I answered, feeling vexed, for at
that moment I had forgotten all about the bet.

I do not remember how many pheasants were killed altogether, but the
total was much smaller than had been hoped for, because of the gale.

"Jenkins," said Lord Ragnall presently to Red Waistcoat, "how many have
you 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 remind
you both, gentlemen, that the birds have been picked as carefully as
possible and kept unmixed, and therefore that the figures given by
Jenkins must be considered as final."

"Quite so," I answered, but Van Koop said nothing. Then, while we all
waited anxiously, came the amazing answer:

"Two hundred and seventy-seven pheasants, my lord, same number as those
of Sir Junius, Bart., fifteen hares, three pigeons, four partridges, one
duck, and a beak--I mean a woodcock."

"Then it seems you have won your L5, Mr. Quatermain, upon which I
congratulate you," said Lord Ragnall.

"Stop a minute," broke in Van Koop. "The bet was as to pheasants; the
other things don't count."

"I think the term used was 'birds,'" I remarked. "But to be frank, when
I 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 the
wager falls through."

"I am sure we all appreciate the view you take of the matter," said Lord
Ragnall, "for it might be argued another way. In these circumstances Sir
Junius keeps his L5 in his pocket. It is unlucky for you, Quatermain,"
he added, dropping the "mister," "that the last high pheasant you shot
can'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 quite
dead."

"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 would
be much bigger than they are," remarked Van Koop, with a look of great
relief upon his face, adding in his horrid, patronizing way: "Still,
you shot uncommonly well, Quatermain. I'd no idea you would run me so
close."

I felt inclined to answer, but didn't. Only Lord Ragnall said:

"Mr. Quatermain shot more than well. His performance in the Lake covert
was the most brilliant that I have ever seen. When you went in there
together, Sir Junius, you were thirty ahead of him, and you fired
seventeen more cartridges at the stand."