40 THE BOOK OF MIGRATORY BIRDS 



any one would imagine, which rattles and stirs the dry 

 rushes, so that any creature that has sheltered there comes 

 out, and the owl gets it. His near relative, the long-eared 

 owl, has the same tactics. They do not eat all they catch 

 at the time, but hide it till wanted, and the contents of 

 their larder would surprise many people. 



Gaining the foot of the sea wall, we crouch down for 

 shelter, and listen for the notes of the fowl, driven by the 

 fierce wind off the open sea to seek harbour in the bays 

 then comes the screaming of the redshanks, the cackle of 

 gulls, and the cry of Tern (Sterna htrundo) ; all combined 

 with the peculiar chatter of thousands of Dunlins or 

 Oxbirds (Tringa variabilis). 



The fow r l are coming up with the wind, so, crawling up 

 the bank, we peep very cautiously out over the Saltings 

 and down the creek. The whole place is alive w 7 ith hen and 

 web-footed fowl ; only a mile away a line of birds is to be 

 seen coming over from the opposite shore; we get quickly 

 back to the bottom of the wall and wait for them. 



The whistle of their wings is first heard, and then we 

 can distinguish them. Wigeon they are, the feathers 

 underneath shining like white satin. Picking out the 

 leader as he passes by, and aiming a yard in front, we 

 bring him down with a thud dead. And now the fowl 

 are on the Saltings ; their scream, chatter, quack, and 

 whistle, all mixed up together, while from the other side 

 of the w r ater comes the sound of the heavy duck guns hard 

 at work. 



We slip over the wall, and begin to crawl on hands and 

 knees to the fowl feeding on the very edge of the ebb-tide. 

 Curlews are not to be thought of ; they know exactly how 

 far a gun will reach, and keep just the right distance out 

 of harm's way. Besides, they post one of their number 

 for sentry duty. The redshanks are nearly as bad, for 

 they kick up a noise, and let all the other birds know that 

 something is crawling along. 



Getting under the shelter of the wall, I made my way 

 lower down to the tide, where, crouching under the 



