MIDNIGHT ON THE OOZES 323 



their pretty " pipe,"and close it during the note. Teal-ducks 

 quack not unlike mallard, but lower, more hurriedly, and 

 less defined ; and these drakes have also a sibilant note. 

 The young - teal when in" packs in autumn keep up a 

 constant low clucking chatter. Scaup appear silent — I 

 never heard them speak — and golden-eyes rarely, though 

 they, with all the diving-ducks, utter a low, hoarse croak — 

 almost corvine. 



Noisiest of all his noisy race is the curlew, the official 

 sentinel of the wastes. His lung-power is simply terrific, 

 and the vociferations of half-a-dozen, suddenly springing 

 from a creek close by, fairly outrage the decencies of 

 night, and spread an alarm for miles. I to-night over- 

 heard my companion angrily muttering to himself that 

 their conduct was " parfectly scandalous ! " On a still, calm 

 night such as this, we could also distinctly hear the croaks 

 and gabbling of the geese, sitting, full two miles away, on 

 the open sea outside. 



It was nearly 3 a.m. before the rising tide sufficiently 

 covered the flats, concentrating the scattered ducks by 

 its steady advance, and before the chance we had awaited 

 arrived. A mile or so beyond the spot where they had 

 been feeding, we came upon the now united assemblage, 

 resting on the water of a sequestered bay. By their 

 notes we had little difficulty in making out their position, 

 and presently drew up within sight of a fine flotilla under 

 the rays of the moon. This was the critical moment. 

 The slightest noise of man, boat, or gear — let an oar 

 creak or the setting-pole strike on a stone — and they are 

 gone. No such ill-luck, however, befell to-night. 



The midnight fowler, during these critical moments, 

 enjoys a rare scene in bird-life — he has before him, and at 

 close quarters, a surging sibilant mass of the wildest of all 



