36 EYES AND NO EYES 
of rock, about the height of a man, and behind one of 
these a fowler is crouching. That great mass of white, 
about a mile out, is where the wild rush of waters is 
breaking up in foam on the sand bar. You can hear 
the howl of it ; not a goose, duck, diver, or wader will 
be able to rest there, before this gale is over. 
Fowls know what is coming ; it is from them, of 
course, that coast people gain their knowledge, in a 
great measure, about atmospheric changes. At one 
time, well within my recollection, the fowls' move- 
ments were the only signs they had to go by. Bad 
as the weather is, fowls are now eagerly feeding on 
the very edge of the tide curlews these are. Some- 
thing moves a whole mob of them, and they rush up 
shrieking as curlews only can shriek just over the 
edge of that hissing surf. Ears and eyes are on the 
alert ; and as they pass that rock the fowler fires, and 
eight birds drop in the water. Without one moment's 
hesitation the gun is dropped in the snow, and he 
dashes in up to his middle in water ; five he gathers 
and brings on shore, then he thinks he will strip and 
swim for the others ; but luckily he is restrained, and 
the other three birds drift off. I have done foolish 
things like this in my time, but this was done by a 
brother naturalist, who has just left us. I admired 
his pluck, but, being twice his age, I at the same time 
