34 SEAFOWL SHOOTING SKETCHES. 



After this adventure we returned to the inn for breakfast, D. 

 carrying my gun. As he was very anxious to kill something, I 

 pointed out a small bird in a tree. He aimed very deliberately 

 for a few moments, and goodness knows how much longer he 

 might have stood, when bang went a gun behind him, and the 

 bird dropped ! We both turned round, and there was M., who 

 had cleared the mud from the gun he carried, laughing heartily, 

 and quite proud of having wiped his young companion's eye. 

 Proceeding on, we saw plenty of purres and a few curlews and 

 lapwings, but all out of range. 



After breakfast we had a very comfortable smoke, and then 

 went to the boat. We took off boots and rolled trousers up, and 

 dragged her down the pool into the river. In doing so we caught a 

 few crabs, which we tossed in the boat. There was a very strong 

 west wind blowing, and we thought we could return home without 

 waiting for the flood. Accordingly we hoisted the sail and 

 started, but we grounded so frequently that it had to be given 

 up. We walked ashore and, taking the guns, tramped on the 

 bank. I succeeded in shooting a couple of birds after a mile walk, 

 and H. bagged a couple also. We fired at a bottle tossed up, but 

 without success, when my brother, who is no shot, volunteered 

 to show us how it was done, and he actually smashed it the first 

 time it was thrown for him. 



Somehow, I never could hit anything tossed up, although I 

 have on one occasion killed nine out of n redwings, rising singly 

 from a brook one hard winter. We got back to the boat, and when 

 the tide made the wind drove the water against the stern of our 

 craft that we had a fan of spray flying over us, and had to retreat 

 forward until the boat floated. Soon we were under weigh, and 

 went up the river in gallant style, my brother at the helm. I had 

 only one shot on the way. There were several birds flying up with 

 the tide, and, as M. wanted a kittiwake I kept a sharp look-out. 

 At length, getting a shot at one, it went away apparently un- 

 touched. Observing, however, that it gave a sort of quiver just 

 as it disappeared over the bank, I landed, and picked it up quite 

 dead. It was in very good feather, and M. got it nicely set up, 

 and was quite proud of it. Without further incident we arrived 

 at the dock, and soon were enjoying a good meal. 



Afterwards H. did a hornpipe to my scraping on the violin (since 

 then I have made 24 fiddles and repaired very many more), and was 

 so satisfied, either with my performance or his own, that he made 

 me a present of a duck which He had bought in order not to go 

 home empty-handed. I accompanied my friends to the station, 

 and we parted with mutual expressions of goodwill and hopes 

 of many a similar excursion. 



I heard afterwards that as M.'s daughter was brushing his over- 

 coat the following day a crab crawled out of one of his pockets, 



