SEAFOWL SHOOTING SKETCHES. 



SEAFOWL SHOOTING AT HOLYHEAD (1876), HOYLAKE 

 (1877), AND CLEETHORPES (1878). 



Having- arranged with my friend, John Heywood, to spend a 

 few days at Holyhead, he set out on Saturday, having fixed a 

 rendezvous at that place, whilst I deferred my departure to 

 Monday, the 3ist July. I was much surprised, however, on the 

 Monday morning- to receive a letter from my friend, dated from 

 Conway (where he had some friends), saying that he was staying 

 there, that I had better join him, and we could go on to Holy- 

 head after, if we thought fit. 



I was quite agreeable to this, but, unfortunately, the letter 

 did not contain any address. Therefore, my only chance was 

 the prospect of Heywood meeting the train at Conway. Well, I 

 left at one o'clock, and had a very nice ride, seeing plenty of 

 birds between Chester and Anglesea. Lapwings, rooks, wood- 

 pigeons, gulls, herons, &c., were feeding along the shore and 

 in the fields. 



The train stopped about 20 minutes at Conway, but as no one 

 appeared, I reluctantly determined to adhere to the original 

 programme. It rained hard as I proceeded from Holyhead station 

 to the London Inn, where I put up. 



After partaking of some refreshment, I sent for a boatman 

 and told him to come to me at daybreak. I got a large bottle of 

 beer with a loaf and some cheese ready for morning, and retired 

 to rest anticipating good sport, but feeling anything but cheerful 

 on account of the blunder my friend had made. 



I rose at 3 45, and making a slight breakfast, set out for the 

 harbour in company with the boatman and his mate, who had 

 duly made their appearance. There were a lot of rooks flying 

 about, so, by way of getting my hand in, I floored one, when the 

 rest flew off. We now embarked, and pulled for the old harbour, 

 where a fair quantity of birds were knocking about ; but they 

 were very wild. On an embankment a few rabbits were playing, 

 but as soon as the boat came near they bolted into their burrows. 



I had a good many shots, and landed several times, trying to 

 stalk both herons and curlews, but it was no use. To walk 

 quietly over the slippery boulders, covered with slimy seaweed, 

 was utterly impossible, so I had to give it up. I devoted a 

 short time to the examination of the ruins of a small chapel, but 

 there was too little of it left to have much interest for me. 



