recognising this, we had very decently provided him with the material
for the chase.

Behind Bob came Ukridge. But a glance was enough to tell me that he
was a negligible factor in the pursuit. He was not built for speed.
Already the pace had proved too much for him, and he had appointed me
his deputy, with full powers to act.

"After her, Garny, old horse! Valuable bird! Mustn't be lost!"

When not in a catalepsy of literary composition, I am essentially the
man of action. I laid aside my novel for future reference, and we
passed out of the paddock in the following order. First, Aunt
Elizabeth, as fresh as paint, going well. Next, Bob, panting and
obviously doubtful of his powers of staying the distance. Lastly,
myself, determined, but wishing I were five years younger.

After the first field Bob, like the dilettante and unstable dog he
was, gave it up, and sauntered off to scratch at a rabbit-hole with an
insufferable air of suggesting that that was what he had come out for
all the time. I continued to pound along doggedly. I was grimly
resolute. I had caught Aunt Elizabeth's eye as she passed me, and the
contempt in it had cut me to the quick. This bird despised me. I am
not a violent or a quick-tempered man, but I have my self-respect. I
will not be sneered at by hens. All the abstract desire for Fame which
had filled my mind five minutes before was concentrated now on the
task of capturing this supercilious bird.

We had been travelling down hill all this time, but at this point we
crossed a road and the ground began to rise. I was in that painful