About half a mile from the south entrance to the park, the road runs across a rather desolate strip of country with a lot of low undergrowth on one side.

We have had a little trouble with poachers, as there is a sort of gipsy camp on some common land a short distance away.

My head-keeper, to whom the very idea of a poacher is intolerable, was patrolling this ground himself that afternoon, and caught sight of one of these gipsy fellows setting a trap.

He chased him, and more, I am sure, to frighten him than anything else, when he saw that the fellow was getting away he fired his gun, just as the dog-cart was passing.

The horse shied, the wheel caught a great stone by the side of the road, and all four men were thrown out.