172 THE WILD-FOWLER. 



It was a brig-lit, moonlight night, fine and frosty, and as calm and 

 inviting as any wild-fowler could desire a night such as to be 

 resisted by no lover of the sport ; when I ventured, as I was fre- 

 quently in the habit of doing, down a certain river on the eastern 

 coast, formerly famous for its numbers of wild-fowl. I had proceeded 

 about a mile in my punt, with large gun, loaded, capped, and 

 ready for action, and was watching, listening, and anxiously awaiting 

 a chance for discharging the contents of the barrel, when I suddenly 

 encountered two fellow -punters, both of whom were personally known 

 to me ; as they appeared to be bound for the same bay as myself, 

 it was suggested that it would be better for the whole three to keep 

 together, and shoot in company, sharing the result of good or ill 

 success, as is usual on such occasions. After reconnoitring in and 

 about the bay some little time, the familiar note "whe-oh," 

 "whe-ow" was distinctly heard, and we proceeded cautiously to 

 the shade of a grove near by, in which position a loom was ob- 

 tained, whence we proposed to advance upon the birds. Having 

 thus carefully taken up our positions, we lay down in the punts, and 

 commenced setting in the direction of the sound before mentioned ; 

 when, clouds passing at the time, the moon became partially obscured, 

 and the light on the water was less bright. Still we cautiously pro- 

 ceeded, I in the middle punt, and my two companions on either side 

 me. Nearer and nearer we seemed to be drawing to the sound, 

 when, suddenly, upon the water about a hundred and fifty yards in 

 front of us, a dark object was descried, which was supposed to be 

 a company of widgeon ; and therefore we gradually drew towards 

 them : my companions having invested in me the honour of giving 

 the signal to fire, as we were now within range, they began to 

 grow impatient to pull trigger ; but, as we approached, I began to 

 suspect the dark object was not in reality a company of widgeon at 

 all. One of the men whispered that we ought to fire ; I replied, " No ; 

 don't fire yet. I should like to see the birds separate a little ; they 

 appear all in a lump; and I am not sure that they are birds at all." 



" But I am certain they are, though," replied one of the men : 

 " don't you hear the noise they are making ?" 



A few seconds elapsed, and one of my companions grew more 

 and more impatient, suggesting that we were getting too close, and 

 unless we shot directly, they would fly. I was that instant about to 

 give the signal, " ready !" "fire !" when the moon peeped from behind 

 the clouds, and suddenly a veil was lifted, as if by some guardian 



