440 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS 



into no small personal danger. A moderately calm sea 

 is an essential in punt-gunning - , and how seldom do we 

 have it in winter? How often does a wildfowling diary- 

 contain such entries as " Strong breeze from east all day ; 

 could not go afloat" ; or else, " Blowing a whole gale this 

 morning; harbour one sheet of white water." Day after 

 day, perhaps a whole week, may be lost thus, and the 

 fowler can only wait, smoke, watch the glass, or (best of 

 all) go home. 



A gunning-punt, to be of service, must necessarily be 

 a low and shallow craft. Her "depth of hold" is only 

 some nine or ten inches, and her freeboard four or five. 

 In such a vessel it is obviously the height of recklessness 

 and folly to venture into rough water : for the slightest 

 sea is liable, and certain, to break on board, placing her 

 crew in the utmost discomfort, to say nothing of danger. 

 Even with the cautious, however, it will sometimes occur 

 that, from a sudden change of wind or other cause, a 

 puntsman will be placed in a position, if not of actual 

 danger, at least of great discomfort and difficulty. As 

 an example of this, the author remembers one January 

 day when, on the wind suddenly shifting from west to 

 north-east, with furious squalls and blinding snow, he was 

 placed on a lee-shore, where 500 yards of rotten mud 

 prevented a landing, and with some six miles of rough 

 water to face ere shelter could be reached. We had hardly 

 time to unship the gun and bring her inboard, so as to trim 

 the punt by the stern, ere the change was complete. It 

 then only remained to sit low and pole like bargees, using 

 every exertion to keep the small craft head to sea. Once 

 let her fall off, and the rush of a sea take her in flank, and 

 you realise that very unpleasant sensation — of your ship 

 sinking under you. You realise also how horribly cold 



