_Shawn-na-Middogue_ and such scoundrels are abroad, and they might put a
bullet through him some night or other.
"He is not at all afraid on that score," replied Charles; "he never goes
out in the evening without a case of pistols freshly loaded."
"Well, but it, is wrong to subject himself to danger. Where is he gone
now?"
"He and Barney Casey have gone out to course; I think they went up
towards the mountains."
Such was the fact. Harry was quite enamoured of sport, and, finding
dogs, guns, and fishing-rods ready to his hand, he became a regular
sportsman--a pursuit in which he found Barney a very able and
intelligent assistant, inasmuch as he knew the country, and every spot
where game of every description was to be had. They had traversed a
considerable portion of rough mountain land, and killed two or three
hares, when the heat of the day became so excessive that they considered
it time to rest and take refreshments.
"The sun, Masther Harry, is d---- hot," said Barney; "and now that ould
Bet Harramount hasn't been in it for many a long year, we may as well
go to that desolate cabin there above, and shelter ourselves from the
hate--not that I'd undhertake to go there by myself; but now that you
are wid me I don't care if I take a peep into the inside of it, out of
curiosity.
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