BREYDON IN SPRINGTIME 77 



doubtful, he fired at them, when one of the red objects 

 altered its position spreading its wings dead on the flat ; 

 the other two flew away ! They were a trio of beautiful 

 " red " knots, in full nuptial attire. The same illusion occurred 

 in the case of a kingfisher, that kept watchfully quiet on his 

 coming. He saw a streak of palest green among the haw- 

 thorn leaves reflecting themselves in a ditch, and thought for 

 the moment how odd it was that a bit of ribbon should have 

 blown there. Instinctively or not, the kingfisher profited by 

 this colour protection, for with a startled scream it took to 

 flight, and was lost at once among the branches of the old 

 hawthorns. The heron standing motionless in stiff angular 

 attitudes, with his plumes and apron fluttering in the breeze, 

 I have often imagined at first sight to be but a ragged basket 

 fringed with debris of Zostera or seaweed. 



Breydon was not silent : there was a perfect melody of bird 

 notes. The wigeon out on the right tugging at the Zostera 

 called " Sme-ou ! sme-ou ! " in a note not unpleasing to the 

 ear. I dare say that note, unvarying as it is to the human 

 ear, meant more than a mutual reminder to make the most 

 of the time before all the water had poured off the flats. 

 The black-headed gulls noisily " Yattd !" to each other as 

 they played around the edge of the channel, up and down 

 which, at sun-up, they started their breakfast patrol. They 

 are now busily engaged in prying into the " lows," or shallow 

 pools, left on the mud. They know that at times there 

 is quite a menagerie encaged there; many a goby, and 

 Gammarus and other crustacean, sometimes shrimps and 

 ditch prawns, and juvenile shore crab. Nothing that can be 

 swallowed comes amiss, and if some stranded bread, sodden 

 and crumbling, be left among the rubbish at the edge of the 

 flat, it is equally welcomed and as promptly disposed of. 



Half a dozen of these "black-heads," hardly correctly 

 named, for the hood assumed in spring is a warm dark brown 

 " mouse coloured " you might term it have just settled on 

 the flat, within a few yards of the houseboat. They are 

 evidently in search of Nereids, those queer, red mudworms 

 that lie hidden near the surface, and afford a never-failing 

 supply to the thousands of small waders that call in spring 

 to investigate their habits and habitations. I have known a 

 smart shower to lay bare these worms by thousands, to the 



