BY THE SIDE OF THE WATERS 347 



native sportsman to get afloat. On such a day a few 

 minutes' view, from one of the little one-arched bridges that 

 cross the small neck of water which often joins one Broad 

 to another, will suffice to gather a good impression of what 

 Broadland on the whole is like. The dense reed clumps at 

 the margin bend beneath their burden of snow, every leaf- 

 bare twig and spray has its touch of white that shoots off in 

 a powdery shower as some hungry bird darts. There is 

 a tinkling sound as the ice crystals on the reed stems chafe 

 in the breeze. One may perchance see a skein of fowl 

 circling round the Broad, or a parcel of them bathing in 

 an open spot in the centre, with others hunched up, 

 sleeping or preening their feathers on the icy margin hard 

 by them. 



The starlings, now hard put to it, pry around for any- 

 thing edible. A black-headed gull disconsolately eyes the 

 open patches of water, eager for a morsel of food ; or its 

 larger relative, the grey gull, a junior of the herring gull 

 or the black-backed species, searches for carrion. Dead 

 redwings, starved to a mere bunch of skin and bones, suit 

 them well, or at a pinch any living dunlin or weakened bird 

 they can overtake or seize. The snipe, hard pressed, goes 

 bleating overhead and is off westward in quest of some 

 'spring beck,' where the snow melts as it falls on moving 

 water, or where, under an overhanging bank, the frost has so 

 far overlooked the still soft larvae-tenanted ooze. From far 

 overhead come the clanging voices of the bean or the pink- 

 footed goose as they fly in wedge form ahead of the storm ; 

 and it is quite likely one may discern a skein or two of wild 

 swans, forced to flit from their northern homes, speeding 

 along with outstretched necks, their white plumage made 

 brilliant by contrast with the leaden storm-clouds behind 

 them. 



