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e of Buckingham. And in less than two hours we get five lovely fat pheasants with no more trouble than it takes to go out and buy them in a shop.'
My father paused for breath. His eyes were shining bright as they gazed back into the wonderful world of his youth.
'But Dad,' I said, 'how do you get the paper hats over the pheasants' heads?'
'You'd never guess it, Danny'
'Tell me.'
'Listen carefully,' he said, glancing again over his shoulder as though he expected to see a keeper or even the Duke of Buckingham himself at the caravan door. 'Here's how you do it. First of all you dig a little hole in the ground. Then you twist a piece of paper into the shape of a cone and you fit this into the hole, hollow end up, like a cup. Then you smear the inside of the paper cup with glue and drop in a few raisins. At the same time, you lay a trail of raisins along the ground leading up to it. Now, the old pheasant comes pecking along the trail, and when he gets to the hole he pops his head inside to gobble up the raisins and the next thing he knows he's got a paper hat stuck over his eyes and he can't see a thing. Isn't that a fantastic idea, Danny? My dad called it The Sticky Hat:
'Is that the one you used this evening?' I asked.
My father nodded.
'How many did you get, Dad?'
'Well,' he said, looking a bit sheepish. 'Actually I didn't get any. I arrived too late. By the time I got there they were already going up to roost. That shows you how out of practice I am.'
'Was it fun all the same?'
'Marvellous,' he said. 'Absolutely marvellous. Just like the old days.'
He undressed and put on his pyjamas. Then he turned out the lamp in the ceiling and climbed up into his bunk.
'Dad,' I whispered.
'What is it?'
'Have you been doing this often after I've gone to sleep, without me knowing it?'
'No,' he said. 'Tonight was the first time for nine years. When your mother died and I had to look after you by myself, I made a vow to give up poaching until you were old enough to be left alone at nights. But this evening I broke my vow. I had such a tremendous longing to go up into the woods again, I just couldn't stop myself. I'm very sorry I did it.'
'If you ever want to go again, I won't mind,' I said.
'Do you mean that?' he said, his voice rising in excitement. 'Do you really mean it?'
'Yes,' I said. 'So long as you tell me beforehand. You will promise to tell me beforehand if you're going, won't you?'
'You're quite sure you won't mind?'
'Quite sure.'
'Good boy,' he said. 'And we'll have roast pheasant for supper whenever you want it. It's miles better than chicken.'
'And one day, Dad, will you take me with you?'
'Ah,' he said. 'I reckon you're just a bit young to be dodging around up there in the dark. I wouldn't want you to get peppered with buckshot in the backside at your age.'
'Your dad took you at my age,' I said.
There was a short silence.
'We'll see how it goes,' my father said. 'But I'd like to get back into practice before I make any promises, you understand?'
'Yes,' I said.
'I wouldn't want to take you with me until I'm right back in my old form.'
