216 WILD-FOWLING AFLOAT BY NIGHT 



widgeon are piping on all sides and the gunner's 

 nerves are apt to be somewhat highly strung. On 

 our way home, one night, I remember once being 

 attracted by the whistling of some widgeon, which 

 were vigorously calling in a small bay under the 

 mainland, and having experienced a run of des- 

 perately bad luck, my partner and I determined to 

 try to find them. Punting cautiously round the 

 shore, we presently drew in range of what we sup- 

 posed were the birds. Raising myself gently above 

 the stock of the gun, I observed water on the far 

 side and myriads of little lumps scattered about in 

 the shallows. I could make out no change in their 

 outward appearance and no movement; but, on 

 whispering to my man, we both decided that what 

 we saw were birds. At length I fired at them, and, 

 though it is true the widgeon flew up all round us 

 from among the lumps in question, not one bird had 

 we touched. In reality our supposed birds were 

 nothing but small stones and ragged rocks covered 

 with seaweed, the widgeon themselves actually being 

 further inshore. 



There is one period of the night, or perhaps 

 I should say morning, when an early-rising gunner 

 may sometimes recoup himself for many blank and 

 profitless days in pursuit of fowl. In the grey dawn, 



