146 THE FOWLER IN IRELAND. 



I can testify that on several occasions I have seen 

 the sentinel relieved of his duties by a companion. 

 He, I presume, has then but one idea, namely, 

 how best to make up lost time. It may be noted 

 that geese are not very wary at night, and do not 

 then appear to possess the visionary powers of other 

 wildfowl. It is a custom, in parts of Ireland, to 

 bring home a wounded goose, which is, when some- 

 what tamed, pegged down in a suitable spot, to 

 attract others ; the punter retiring to a safe distance 

 and waiting for the chance of a wandering gaggle 

 alighting near his decoy. He then approaches with 

 the flowing tide, having previously made sure that 

 his tame bird is placed on the mud which will be 

 last covered, and, therefore, the most favourable spot 

 to float up to. 



The shore shooter acts similarly, but digs a deep 

 hole almost within shot of his prisoner, and thus 

 hiding, takes his chance. No minute of the day is 

 so good for a shot as when the geese are floated 

 off the ooze at dusk. 



I have more than once obtained a fair shot in the 

 manner described above, and always noticed that 

 when wild birds came to my decoy, they invariably 

 pitched some distance away from it. If unsus- 

 picious, they solemnly stalk up to the captive, 

 who, being tame and hungry, after a good stare, 

 continues feeding placidly on a liberal supply of 

 grain laid near. The wild gaggle then surround 

 the stranger, and hold an animated dispute over 

 such a curious incident. They next retire some 

 paces, and, after further questioning and talking, 

 begin to feed ; uneasily at first, as if something 



