224 By Stream and Sea. 



Harvey now. His larder was, so to speak, full of them. 

 Thornbury knew well enough what he wanted. He had 

 expressed a wish to have in his collection a Paget's Pochard, 

 and that is a description of fowl not to be bagged every 

 day. 



They stole cautiously through the passage and paused, 

 holding on by the reeds at the mouth of the second lake, 

 Turlingham Broad by name. It behoved them to be wary. 

 The Dunbird is one of the most artful of aquatic birds, 

 as any professional fowler will tell you. When every other 

 kind has been enticed into the decoy-pipe, Master Pochard 

 either remains without or dives and retreats before he can 

 be captured. At the Manor, they had eaten of this bird on 

 the previous evening, and agreed that in flavour, as in 

 appearance, he was eminently worthy of comparison with 

 the famous canvas-back duck of America. It was in dis- 

 cussion over the dainty morsel Thornbury had mentioned 

 his desire to have that rare variety, Paget's Pochard. Hence 

 the present action. 



"Dunbirds, as I live!" whispered Harvey, pointing to the 

 centre of the lake. They could hear their widgeon-like note, 

 softened by distance, and see them upon the water in con- 

 siderable numbers, scattered too over a large space. 



Harvey Kype's blood was up, and the passage overhead 

 of a goodly skein of geese did not at all tend to keep it 

 down. Pulling stealthily, first down by the reeds as a flank 

 movement and then out into the open, the sportsmen 

 thought neither of home nor beauty. To shorten the story, 

 however, their stalking was fruitless ; Harvey had predicted 

 as much , though a chance shot was possible, if not probable. 



" It is darkening very suddenly," Thornbury said. 



" Yes ; and here comes a snowstorm," ejaculated his 

 companion. 



