202 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS. 



dark hours just before dawn which is pccuHarly impressive 

 oil the coast. The wind moans with mehmcholy cadence, 

 there are dreary periods while clouds cross the moon, and the 

 measured murmur of the dark wavelets on the shore has an 

 " eerie" monotony. Of all Nature's creatures man, or rather 

 that amphibious variety, or " sub-species," of our race which 

 dwells on and lives by the sea, is perhaps the hardest work- 

 ing, and has the keenest struggle for existence. Already, 

 at this early hour, the brown sails of the fishing fleet are 

 disappearing in the gloom to seaward. They will be back 

 with the produce of their " long lines " before noon, to get 

 their fish to market that day, and the results will perhaps 

 appear on the tables of the piscivorous, possibly hundreds of 

 miles away, before night. That hoarse " clank, clank," 

 resounding across the dark water, is also human ; it proceeds 

 from the small schooner which put in for shelter last night, 

 and is now hauling taut her cable preparatory to getting away 

 on her voyage by daylight. The only other sign of life is the 

 weak little pipe of the Ring-Dotterels, running along the shore 

 close to us in search of breakfast. 



Our destination is the wide stretch of ooze where the Zos- 

 tera marimi and the samphire grow, and whither the Geese 

 resort at daybreak, some three or four miles up the estuary. 

 Our course at first lies across the harbour channel, where the 

 tide-sheer knocks up a nasty sea, some icy cold sprays break- 

 ing on board of us. Just as daylight begins to break, my man 

 descries some duck ahead, but not being myself endowed 

 with crepuscular vision I fail to make them out. However, 

 faith is still the essence of my creed, so we " flatten " 

 on our chests, and after cautiously " setting " for some dis- 

 tance in the direction indicated they became visible — six Teal 

 on the point of a sand spit. Unluckily we had forgotten to 

 remove the handful of tow placed in the muzzle of the big 

 gun to prevent her " drowning " as we crossed the rough 

 water, and I didn't quite fancy the risk of firing thirty-two 

 drachms of powder with so solid an obstruction in the barrel. 

 However, Teal are the simplest of wildfowl, and as they sat 

 well together, a shot from the large shoulder-gun stopped 

 four out of the six — all drakes ; lovely objects, with their 



