INTRODUCTION. 57 



in the middle distance some bare posts set up as a 

 land-mark, or the timbers of some ill-fated vessel 

 rising above the quicksand, there reigns, on the con- 

 trary, a solitude of another kind ; it is now broken 

 only by the distant roll of the surf, by the shrill pipe of 

 the ring-dotterel, or the glance of its flight as it rises 

 noiselessly ; a solitary gull or tern that has lagged 

 from the flock may sail along, uttering as it were an 

 unwilling inward sound as it passes the intruder ; 

 everything is calm and still, the sensation increased 

 by the hot glimmer that spreads along the sands ; 

 there is no voice, there is no animal life. During 

 winter, the scene may at first sight appear nearly 

 similar; the warm and flickering haze is changed 

 for a light that can be seen into ; the noise of the 

 surge conies deeper through the clear air of frost, and 

 with it at intervals hoarse sounds and shrill whistles 

 to which the ear is unaccustomed; acres of dark 

 masses are seen, which may be taken for low rocks 

 or scalps, and the line of the sea in the bays contains 

 something which rises and falls, and seems as if it 

 were about to be cast on shore with every coming 

 swell. To the old sportsman all these signs are fami- 

 liar, and he knows their meaning ; but to one who 

 has for the first time trodden these flat coasts, some 

 distant shot or other alarm first explains every- 

 thing. The line of the coast is now one dark mov- 

 ing mass ; the air seems alive with water-fowl, and 

 is filled with sounds that rise and fall, and vary as 

 the troops wheel around, and this continues until 

 they have again settled to their rest; as dusk 



