February 1, 1897.] 



KNOWLEDGE. 



45 



birds in down have been found once or twice in high 

 latitudes, but the eggs have never yet been authenticated. 



The grey plover, much like the golden plover, but easily 

 distinguished by the black axillaries under the wing, and 

 by the hind toe (the golden plover has none), is a lovely 

 enough bird in winter : but he, too, is far more beautiful in 

 summer. 



Just as we have settled down again, after picking up our 

 birds, a flock of fifty widgeon fly in from seawards, and 

 splash into the water about two hundred yards from us. 

 Now we are all excitement . It is not every day that a shore- 

 shooter has a chance at widgeon, so we sit as still as 

 stones as they gradually drift in with the tide. At last 

 they are within a hundred yards of the shore, and we can 

 see every feather with our glasses, and notice that, besides 

 the widgeon, there are several scaup-duck in the flock. 



purpose. Nothing further rewards our labours for that 

 day until the sun is setting, and we wait for the evening 

 flight. 



During the day the wind has been rising, and now a 

 fine snow is falling. The ducks coming in from the river 

 fly low and heavily against the wind, which is off the land. 

 Many a cartridge is fired in vain before we hear the 

 welcome sound of two thuds upon the grass behind us, and 

 we pick up a fine pair of mallard. Flighting in the dusk is 

 by no means certain shooting. If there are bright clouds 

 above, the birds can be easily seen, but it is exceedingly 

 difiicult to judge of height and pace— knowledge which is 

 indispensable for accurate shooting. 



We trudge home that night with high hopes for the 

 morrow, for this snow wiU surely drive the birds off the 

 land to feed by the open water. 



Snipe feedins ik a Creek on the Snow-coveeed Saltinos. 

 Keproduoed from a painting Kv ' ' A Son of the Marshes. 



Some are diving and some are preening their feathers, and 

 now and again an old male widgeon sounds his melodious, 

 long-drawn "whee-ou" — some people call it harsh and 

 shrill — but all seem unconscious of our presence. So 

 intent have I been in watching that, until the cold 

 strikes me, I have not noticed that the tide has filled 

 the creek and crept up my leg ! They are still drifting 

 in, and another twenty yards nearer we shall fire ; but, 

 alas ! they have, perhaps, seen me draw my leg out of 

 the water, for slowly and leisurely they paddle out again. 

 Our hopes are shattered, so we console ourselves with 

 luncheon, and discuss the ways of birds over a pipe. 

 As the tide goes down the dunlin fly from off the land, 

 and we get a few, which are wanted for a special 



We spend the next day up a small offshoot of the main 

 river, where salt marshes border the stream. These 

 saltings are familiar objects on the east coast of England. 

 They are slightly raised above the water, and only the 

 highest tides completely cover them. They are overgrown 

 with rank grass and weeds, and are intersected with small 

 muddy creeks, up which the tide runs. 



Just as we reach the saltings and are walking carelessly 

 along, continually jumping over the small creeks, a pair 

 of lovely shielduck rise within eighty yards of us, showing 

 off their striking plumage of black and white and chestnut. 

 Had we been more careful, both those ducks might have 

 been brought to bag. 



Then up gets a snipe from a patch of mud uncovered 



