OH, SHOOT! 



chips rolled off the table and we all felt 



lucky. 



But the storm had delayed the mail boat 

 and my companions were forced to remain 

 over another day. The courage with which 

 th^y bore this bitter disappointment was sub- 

 lime; they sang like a pair of thrushes as they 

 feverishly unpacked. 



Conditions were ideal the next morning 

 and we were away early. Having put down 

 my rig in shallow water, where I could wade 

 up my own birds, I sent the launch back to 

 the village. This promised to be a day of 

 days, and I wanted to get the most out of it. 



Almost immediately the ducks began flying, 

 and several bunches headed in towards me. 

 I was puzzled as to why they changed their 

 minds and flared, until a cautious peep over 

 the side showed a small power-boat threshing 

 up against the wind. It had already cost me 

 several good shots, but there was nothing to do 

 except wait patiently for it to pass. How- 

 ever, it did not pass; in spite of my angry 

 shouts and gesticulations it held its course 

 until within hailing distance. Then the man 

 in the stern bellowed: 



"Telegram!" 



34 



