THE JERSEY: COAST. 115 
actively about, or jumping up and taking short flights 
to dry their wings. A happy murmur ran through 
the flock, and so innocent and beautiful were they 
that we remained watching them in silent admi- 
ration, unwilling to disturb the romance of the 
charming scene. The rich brown feathers of the 
imposing marlin formed an exquisite contrast to the 
white and black of the elegant willet, as the different 
species mixed unreservedly together. 
They did not exhibit the slightest alarm when our 
boat, after we had ceased rowing, was borne towards 
them by the wind, and allowed us to approach till it 
grounded on the flat. Having feasted our eyes on 
the magnificent spectacle, we at last gave the word 
to fire. At the report they rose wildly, and receiving 
the second discharge, made the best of their way to 
safer quarters. Both barrels of my friend’s gun 
missed fire, and we gathered only seven birds, as the 
flock, although numbering at least seventy birds, 
was widely scattered and offered a poor mark. 
No sooner were we again ensconced in our blind, 
than the exhilarating sport of the morning was 
renewed—sport such as only those who have tried it 
can appreciate—sport that makes the heart beat and 
the nerves tingle—sport that overweighs humanity 
and compels the remorseless slaughter of these beau- 
tiful birds. Flock after flock, seen at great distance, 
and watched in their approach through changing 
hopes and fears, or darting unexpectedly from over 
our heads and first noticed when rushing with ex- 
tended wings down to our stools, presented their 
