28 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



A STORM IN THE MARSHES 



' THERE'S some hen-footed fowl in the marsh, some 

 of your waders as you call 'em. I see 'em pitch last 

 night when I left the boat. If you want to see 'em 

 you can come down in the skiff with me ; or if you'd 

 sooner walk, come through the churchyard on to the 

 downs, for they pitched the Medway side.' 



So spoke one of my old fisher friends. I preferred 

 to walk, and passed through the old churchyard under 

 its fine walnut trees, the great branches of which were 

 now bare and leafless ; recalling, as I looked at many 

 a name I was once familiar with, some of my com- 

 panions in the expeditions and adventures of my 

 boyhood. After leaving the churchyard I crossed 

 over a few fields which brought me to the downs 

 gentle elevations, covered with fine short grass. 



The bird life here is represented by magpies in 

 small parties, now chattering and scolding at being 

 disturbed. Besides these are a couple of hooded 

 crows and a few green plovers. From this point a 



