A WINTERS DA Y IN THE MARSHES 23 



grey or herring-gull are not numerous here. They 

 work up and down singly or in pairs, knowing well 

 how to take care of No. I. As a rule, they only 

 get shot from the fishing-boats. The common and 

 the black-headed gull are all over ; that is to say, the 

 black-headed gull in winter plumage. The fishermen 

 catch as many as they require with hook and line ; it 

 is like spinning for pike, as the boat sails along. The 

 line is played out with a small fish on the hook, the 

 gull pounces down, and is caught in the upper man- 

 dible. The hooks are made of soft iron, so that they 

 bend freely, and beyond the slight touch of the hook 

 the bird is not injured in the least. The fishermen 

 know exactly when to pull, so that the bird shall not 

 swallow the hook. They eat them, after having 

 buried them for twenty-four hours to take the fishy 

 taste out of them. I have known hooded crows shot 

 and treated in the same manner, and a farmer once 

 told me they were as good as his fowls. His farm- 

 lands faced the sea, and when the dun crows paid 

 their visits to his fields he would take his old flint- 

 locked fowling-piece down from over the chimney, and 

 bring home a couple. I dined with him many times, 

 but prejudice is strong, and I always declined crow 

 with thanks. 



Getting under the shelter of the wall, I made my 



