16 Poachers and Poaching. 



A lapwing gets up in the darkness and screams 

 an ominous sound, and we are all ear. Three 

 forms descend the opposite bank, and on to the 

 gravel bed. They empty the contents of a bag 

 and begin to unroll its slow length. The break- 

 ing of a rotten twig in a preparatory movement 

 for the rush sufficiently alarms them, and they 

 dash into the wood as we into the water 

 content now to secure their cumbersome illegal 

 net, and thus effectually stop their operations 

 for three weeks at least. The grey becomes 

 dawn and the dawn light as we wade wearily 

 home through the long wet grass. And still the 

 sedge warbler sings. 



