WILD-FOWL OF THE NORTH-EAST COAST 283 



to ''take stock" is at an hour about the break of day — 

 sooner or later, according to the tide. The tide, in fact, 

 on the coast, supplants to a great extent the ordinary 

 chronological measurements in vogue elsewhere — as, 

 somewhere about the middle watches of the night, 

 awakened by the rattle of gravel on the window, or by find- 

 ing a man in sea-boots in one's bedroom, one helplessly 

 asks what hour it may be, the reply is, " It's quarter-flood, 

 sir, and there's no time to be lost ! " 



As the first streak of dawn becomes discernible in the 

 eastern skies— or rather a trifle before that period — -there 

 commences a general movement of wildfowl, and from a 

 favourable position (usually near the mouth of the seaward 

 channel) the whole local stock of fowl may be observed in 

 the course of an hour or two's watching — -the night-feeding 

 birds speeding outwards to the open sea, and those of 

 diurnal habit hurrying in, hungry, to their feeding-grounds 

 within the harbour. Lying concealed among the weed- 

 covered rocks of the outermost promontory, the gunner 

 enjoys a moving panorama of bird-life, which amply 

 repays the trouble of turning-out an hour or two earlier 

 than usual. The nearer the water's edge he lies, the 

 better his chance of a shot ; and he can shift his position 

 a few yards backwards at intervals, as the tide creeps up 

 to his sea-boots. 



At first it is pitch dark, the rude features of the coast 

 scenery but dimly discernible, and only the wild cry of 

 some seafowl blends with the roar of the breakers out- 

 side. First to move are the mallards, then the wigeon ; 

 both of these, in winter, go out to sea before a symptom 

 of daylight has appeared. They are only recognisable by 

 their well-known notes (if uttered), or by the resonant 

 swish, swish of their strong pinions, distinctly audible far up 



