BRANT SHOOTING. 313 



ly off the flats, they all dumped down a little distance 

 from the bar. Some were within gunshot of the box. 

 What was to be done? A thousand brant, all within 

 180 yards of the two well-charged guns! As the tide 

 was fast leaving the flats, and the birds could walk 

 around anywhere, and, moreover, as they began to 

 stretch up their necks and show signs of suspicion, it 

 was thought best to fire as soon as they should come 

 together and offer a favorable opportunity for a good 

 shot. This they soon did, and George gave the order, 

 and the other two guns belched forth fire and smoke. 

 Easy task to gather up the thirteen dead birds that lay 

 upon the water. Scarcely was the shot made on the 

 Gravel when Washy's eye seemed to be riveted to the 

 western horizon. After a few minutes, as if almost 

 doubting the correctness of his own eyes, he says : 



"There is a flock of sea ducks coming this way, I 

 think. No, they are brant," he continues, with much 

 straining of the visual organs. After a few moments' 

 pause, he bursts out again : "I declare, they are Soma- 

 teria mollissima, coming right straight for the box !" 



"They look to me more like brant," says M. 



"No," remarks Washy ; "don't you see how steadily 

 they fly, and so close to the water?" 



On they came till within about eighty yards of the 

 box, when their keen eyes caught sight of some move- 

 ment—most likely the nervous motion of cocking the 

 guns and getting ready for the reception. They all 

 suddenly wheeled to the southward with as much pre- 

 cision and regularity as a file of soldiers. A grand 



