“Making a point!” said Mr. Winkle, staring about him, as if he expected to discover some particular beauty in the landscape, which the sagacious animals were calling special attention to. “Making a point! What are they pointing at?”

“Keep your eyes open,” said Wardle, not heeding the question in the excitement of the moment. “Now then.”

There was a sharp whirring noise, that made Mr. Winkle start back as if he had been shot himself. Bang, bang, went a couple of guns⁠—the smoke swept quickly away over the field, and curled into the air.

“Where are they!” said Mr. Winkle, in a state of the highest excitement, turning round and round in all directions. “Where are they? Tell me when to fire. Where are they⁠—where are they?”