WILD WINGS: A FAREWELL 311 



the flat marsh Hke a great crimson globe hanging just 

 above the low, black roofs of Wells, with the square 

 church tower in the middle. The whole vast aerial 

 army streamed by directly over me and over their 

 wounded fellow below, still standing statuesque and 

 conspicuous on the brown, level marsh. In two or three 

 minutes more the leading birds were directly above the 

 roosting-place on the flat sands, and at this point they 

 paused and remained stationary in mid-air, or slowly 

 circled round, still keeping at the same height; and as 

 others and still others joined them, the whole formation 

 was gradually broken up, skeins and phalanxes becom- 

 ing merged in one vast cloud of geese, circling round 

 like a cloud of gulls. Then the descent began, a few 

 at a time detaching themselves from the throng and 

 sweeping obliquely downwards, while others, singly or 

 in small parties, with half-closed wings appeared to hurl 

 themselves towards earth with extraordinary violence. 

 This marvellous wild wing display continued for four 

 or five minutes before the entire multitude had come 

 to the ground. Altogether it had been the most mag- 

 nificent spectacle in wild-bird life I had ever witnessed 

 in England. 



It was not until all were down and invisible, and the 

 tumult of the multitudinous cries had sunk to silence, 

 that the wounded bird, after some moments of inde- 

 cision, first taking a few steps onwards, then returning 

 to the side of the redshanks, as if reluctant to part from 

 those little unhelpful friends lest he should find no 

 others, finally set off walking towards the sea. 



