48 LAKES AND RIVERS. 



CHAPTER III. 



A RAMBLE AMONG THE MARSH BIRDS OF SUSSEX. 



ON the 1 5th of May we started by train for Uckfield, 

 that being the nearest station to the lodging where our 

 friend Barnes had been staying for the last eight 

 weeks. He met us about half a mile outside the 

 village, where four roads cross. His three sturdy boys, 

 between twelve and sixteen, came running up to us, 

 and before we shook hands began exhibiting nests of 

 eggs and an unfortunate bird with its legs tied to- 

 gether with a hair, vainly striving to get loose. We 

 were not long in hearing from Barnes himself an 

 account of his captures as we walked along together. 

 Having breakfasted at the farmhouse where Barnes 

 lodged, six of us started for a bird's-nesting day. It 

 was just nine o'clock. " We'll visit the swamp first," 

 said Barnes to me. It was raining slightly, but we 

 tucked up our trousers, took each a basket or good- 

 sized box, knives, mustard-spoons, string, a rope 

 ladder invented by Barnes, and a first-rate old blind 

 setter with an extraordinary gift for finding moor- 

 hens' nests. We passed a deserted wren's nest in a 

 rather high tree, which did not seem worth climbing 

 for. " I have a list in my pocket," said he, " of what 

 I have found, and ought to be ready for taking to-day. 



