'What's the matter now?' said Wardle.

'I won't suffer this barrow to be moved another step,' said Mr.
Pickwick, resolutely, 'unless Winkle carries that gun of his in a
different manner.'

'How AM I to carry it?' said the wretched Winkle. 'Carry it with the
muzzle to the ground,' replied Mr. Pickwick.

'It's so unsportsmanlike,' reasoned Winkle.

'I don't care whether it's unsportsmanlike or not,' replied Mr.
Pickwick; 'I am not going to be shot in a wheel-barrow, for the sake of
appearances, to please anybody.'

'I know the gentleman'll put that 'ere charge into somebody afore he's
done,' growled the long man.

'Well, well--I don't mind,' said poor Winkle, turning his gun-stock
uppermost--'there.'

'Anythin' for a quiet life,' said Mr. Weller; and on they went again.

'Stop!' said Mr. Pickwick, after they had gone a few yards farther.

'What now?' said Wardle.

'That gun of Tupman's is not safe: I know it isn't,' said Mr. Pickwick.

'Eh? What! not safe?' said Mr. Tupman, in a tone of great alarm.

'Not as you are carrying it,' said Mr. Pickwick. 'I am very sorry to
make any further objection, but I cannot consent to go on, unless you
carry it as Winkle does his.'

'I think you had better, sir,' said the long gamekeeper, 'or you're
quite as likely to lodge the charge in yourself as in anything else.'

Mr. Tupman, with the most obliging haste, placed his piece in the
position required, and the party moved on again; the two amateurs
marching with reversed arms, like a couple of privates at a royal
funeral.

The dogs suddenly came to a dead stop, and the party advancing
stealthily a single pace, stopped too.

'What's the matter with the dogs' legs?' whispered Mr. Winkle. 'How
queer they're standing.'

'Hush, can't you?' replied Wardle softly. 'Don't you see, they're making
a point?'

'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,
turni