266 BIRDS, BEASTS, AND FISHES 



all hands seize on the birds, throwing them into the boats. 

 Whilst their living relatives are re-settling behind them at 

 the other end of the broad one man on the right wing 

 is calling out that he got ten shots at them as they 

 passed, whilst another is complaining that he got never 

 a shot. 



When all the birds have re-settled, the gunners re-form 

 in the same way, and start back again, growing silent as 

 they approach the birds, that are more restless now, and 

 sooner take to the wing, flying over in companies in the 

 same manner as before, and meeting with the same end. 

 Perhaps in the middle of the hottest fire some man will 

 yell out that he has been shot through the leg, or got a 

 shot in his head, for in the excitement some shots go amiss, 

 though I have never heard of any one being killed at the 

 sport. 



So the party works backwards and forwards five or six 

 times, when, perhaps, there isn't a coot left on the water, all 

 that have escaped having fled to the adjoining marshes or 

 covers, and mayhap, too, the boats have lost their formation, 

 and are scattered all over the broad, some with piles of dead 

 coots in them, others with scarce a bird, and then the tally 

 begins, crew shouting to crew — 



" How many ha' you got, bor ? " 



"Oh, I ain't got one," says one man despondingly, and 

 perhaps a boat near by teases him in turn with a " There 

 you are, old Poker." 



Another crew will shout gleefully, " We got twenty-four. 

 Any one beat that ? " 



No one replies. 



So the same voice calls again cheerily, " We're head boat, 

 then." 



Then you see the scattered flotilla making for the inn, 

 some buying coots on the way, others begging for them, 

 others promising drinks for " a brace." 



And soon the short winter day is over, and the noisy 



