

CHANCE SHOTS AND ODD FISH. 239 



Those who wander for chance shots pass through 

 very lonely places at times ; and those shooters 

 with whom I associated were men who were, as a 

 rule, much influenced by the mysteries of nature. 

 Many a time have I rested to talk over the wild 

 records of past times with them, when out on the 

 search for fowl. My companions, like myself, were 

 brim-full of the traditions of the flats. There was 

 one spot that was under a ban, owing to local 

 traditions, which had a fascination for me from 

 my earliest childhood. 



Where the tide works its own way, if you wish 

 to get to a special place I know of, you must go 

 in certain directions to it. It is not the least 

 use going by a boat, although you could pull to 

 it direct; for the moment you got on shore you 

 would be trespassing. This was fiercely resented 

 by all classes, rich or poor, so no one trespassed 

 as a rule, thus saving a lot of trouble on both sides. 

 Now to reach one place where fowl were abundant, 

 we had to go six miles from our own hamlet before 

 we could get to a narrow track that led to one of 

 the smallest and most secluded fishing hamlets that 

 I should imagine ever existed. If ever a place could 



