DUCK-SHOOTING IN A GALE 299 



back into the wood, and crept carefully up to the bank 

 again ; I had hoped to get a sitting shot, for the noise 

 of the wind drowned any that I made. But, as I was 

 within a few yards of where I hoped to shoot from, they 

 sprung up there must have been thirteen or fourteen 

 and drifted back over the wood. My first barrel 

 missed, but the second brought one down with a crash 

 into the brambles behind, whence I extracted him, stone 

 dead. The widgeon must have come inland from the 

 sea, for the surf mark was on the breast of the bird 

 shot. He was in excellent condition, and storm, not 

 hunger, must have brought them inland. 



It was a weary trudge back, soaking wet, with the 

 wind cutting through damp clothes, and the hare was 

 a gruesome object, more like a drowned cat than a 

 smart jack hare, when I arrived at home. But the 

 duck were an ample reward. One lesson to be drawn 

 from the experience of the day is that, in a widely 

 distributed storm, affecting large areas of land and sea, 

 it is worth while to take a walk in the marshes. 



