284 THE WILD-FOWLER. 



another cup of sack. Sambo softly whined again ! I offered him 

 part of the sandwich, but his attention was too riveted upon some- 

 thing I knew not what to heed the proffered food, and, though 

 hungry, he refused it. A few seconds more, and he whined again ! 

 peering all the while in the direction of the river. At this moment 

 I distinctly heard the note of a wild-duck or mallard not very far 

 distant ; and, so patting the dog, took my gun and proceeded with 

 cautious steps to follow through the falling snow my unerring guide. 



" Silently, silently, on we trode and trode 

 As if a spell had frozen up our words : 

 White lay the wolds around us, ankle deep 

 In new-fallen snows, which champed beneath our feet." 



I proceeded several yards along the shore, every step seeming to bring 

 me nearer to the birds, and I soon discovered there was more than 

 one noisy mallard of the party. The marshes were quite open and 

 unsheltered : there was but one screen a small bed of reeds on the 

 brink of the river a position behind which it was highly desirable 

 to obtain; but the difficulty of getting there unseen was great, it 

 being more than a hundred yards across open marshes, which were 

 covered with snow, and wet, cold, and muddy : but what of that 

 whilst my water-boots extended far above my knees? So down I 

 knelt, and proceeded to crawl along the marsh, through the snow, as 

 noiselessly as possible, Sambo following close in the rear; when, 

 having nearly gained the reeds, I was puzzled to know what the dog 

 meant by every now and then walking a few yards in front, and then 

 returning, whining and rubbing his nose against my arm. Having 

 never known him act so strangely, I could not divine his meaning. 

 A few moments solved the mystery ; for, on approaching the reeds, 

 to my great surprise, they were already occupied by a snow- 

 covered sportsman, who had not observed my stealthy approach, 

 and was so startled when I gently pinched his leg, that I feared 

 the birds would take alarm, but was glad to find they did not. 

 The already ensconced sportsman was a young farmer living- near by, 

 who had reached the spot as stealthily as myself, an hour or more in 

 advance of me ; consequently the falling snow had removed all trace 

 of his footsteps. He told me in a whisper he had long been watching 

 the movements of the ducks, which had hitherto been out of range, 

 but were now just approaching within shot. As he was first there, 

 by the rules of sporting, it was his shot; but, as there seemed to be 



