I902 Winter on the Norfolk Broads 47 



swept Hickling" this far-famed sheet of clear and shallow 

 water has been aptly termed, but the extensive reed- beds 

 and acres of rank vegetation growing in and upon the 

 swamps and marshes adjoining its walls afford at all times 

 and seasons plenty of quiet resting - places for feathered 

 visitors. Nevertheless, to all but naturalists and sportsmen 

 the windiness and dreariness of the locality may oftentimes 

 from November to March be justly described as " appalling." 

 On sunless days without a breath of wind, the solemn still- 

 ness of dead calm upon the then black waters would be 

 quite sufficient to frighten away any solitary stranger who 

 had previously been accustomed to the traffic of the Strand, 

 or educated up to depend upon the company of others for 

 amusement or interest. Here, more perhaps even than 

 upon the wild wave -beat shore of adjacent Horsey, the 

 veriest hermit, if town - bred, would feel the justice of 

 Cowper's restrictions on Bruyere's idea of retirement, and 

 whilst echoing the "passing sweetness of solitude," add 

 with hearty fervour — 



"... grant me still a friend in my retreat, 

 Whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet," — 



that is, unless the visitor were a very confirmed misogynist, 

 or contented to fraternise with nature pure and simple. 

 Once to my certain knowledge an enthusiast in pike-fishing 

 and an authority on Coleoptera found a day on the broads 

 too long. He was my guest, and anxious to combine jack- 

 fishing with beetle -hunting. The morning was dull and 

 cloudy but still, and I thought that my groom -gardener 

 would be able to move a boat quite quickly enough for my 

 friend to fish, whilst I went apart with my gun. Wild- 

 fowling is, perhaps, from the silence necessary to success, 

 the most selfish of all sports, and I must confess that after 

 spending an hour or two with the water-net, hunting for 

 " bugs," I congratulated myself on getting off alone, for 

 there were many duck about, and my fingers were itching 

 to be off after them, instead of dabbling amongst mud and 

 rotten weeds for small things with big names and great 

 powers of concealment. About mid-day the wind freshened, 

 and by three o'clock it blew nearly a gale from the south- 



