138 SHOOTING. 



indeed, on this coast cornmonly tke emploj^nents of tlie same 

 person. He who in summer with his line or net j)lies the shores 

 when they are overflowed by the tide, in winter mtli his gun, as 

 evening draws on, runs up iii his boat amon^ the little creeks, 

 which the tide leaves in the midlands, and lies in patient expecta- 

 tion of his prey. Sea-fowl usually feed by night, when, in all their 

 multitudes, they come down to graze on the savannahs of the 

 shore. As the sonorous cloud advances (for their noise resembles 

 a pack of hounds in the air in full cry), the attentive fowler hstens 

 which way they bend their com-se; perhaps he has the mortification 

 to hear them alight at too great a distance for his gun (though of ' 

 the longest barrel) to reach them; and if he cannot edge his boat 

 round some creek, which it is not always in his power to do, he 

 despairs of success that night; perhaps, however, he is more 

 fortunate, and has the satisfaction to hear the airy noise approach 

 nearer, till at length the host settle on some plain upon the edge 

 of which his boat is moored. He now, as silently as possible, 

 primes both his pieces anew (for he is generally double anned), 

 and listens with all his attention. It is so dark', he can take no 

 aim ; for if he could discern the bu^ds, they would also see him, and 

 being extremely timorous, would seek some other pasture. Though 

 they march with noise, they feed in silence ; some indistinct noises, 

 however,_if the night be still, issue from so vast a concourse ; he 

 directs his piece, therefore, towards the sound, fires at a ventui-e, 

 and instantly catching up his other gun, discharges it where he 

 supposes the flock to rise on the wing. His gahis for the night are 

 now decided, and he has only to gather his harvest. He imme- 

 diately puts on his mud-pattens (flat square pieces of board, which 

 the fowler ties to his feet that he may not sink in the ooze), 

 ignorant yet of liis success, and goes groping about in the dark in 

 quest of his booty, picking up sometimes many, and perhaps not 

 one ; so hardly does the poor fowler earn five shillings, exposed in 

 an open boat, during a solitary winter night, to the weather as it 

 comes, raiu, haO, or snow, on a bleak coast, a league probably from 

 the beach, and often liable, without great care, to be fixed in the 

 mud, where he would become an inevitable prey to the returning 

 tide._ I have heard a poor fellow say, he never takes a dog with 

 him in these expeditions, because no dog could bear the cold which 

 he is obHged to suffer ; for the tide often throws next dav, on many 

 different parts of the shore, many of the birds which he had killed, 

 but could not find in the night. 



The danger, Mr. Daniel tells us, of fowlers attacking the wild 

 fowl in small boats, arises from the cii'cumstance that when there 

 happens to be ice in the river, they get encii-cled by it, and can only- 

 hope to extricate themselves by foUoT^dng the current, wherever 

 it may take them. It not unfrequently happens that the men are 

 detained two or tliree tides before they 'can work their way out of 

 the icy entanglement. They suffer much, in such cases, from cold 

 and privation. He says further, " The punt is but ill calculated to 



