284 WITH THE WOODLANDERS. 



for after we had tramped about a mile, we collected 

 a large armful of dry seaweed and placed it in a 

 hollow, where we sat on it. A death-like stillness 

 was all around, save when the fowl called to each 

 other. We sat in silence for some minutes, each 

 occupied with his own thoughts. 



Presently a, hissing whisper reaches us : it is the 

 tide coming in over the sand-flats a mile away. 

 Now is the time to hear the voices of the night ; 

 for as each swift wave bears food of some kind 

 before it, all sand-loving creatures hasten to meet 

 the flow. Hosts of fowl are passing overhead, far 

 out of sight, but not out of hearing ; from the great 

 marshes, ten miles away, they come to meet the 

 tide. Now we can hear the break and lap of the 

 waves, for the tide rushes in here like a mill-race. 

 Nearer and nearer come the babel of bird-voices. 

 Then my friends break the silence in excited 

 undertones, as they check off the various species 

 according to their call-notes. 



" Hark at them wigeons, we-ohing about. You 

 shall hev we-oh, my pretty boys, directly ! Hear 

 'em 'ere mallards ; why, there's a whole crew on 

 'em close handy ! Cuss that 'ere bargender duck ! 



