250 HAPPY HUNTING-GROUNDS 



renovation of the banks rendered necessary by their 

 destructive habits forms no small item of my expendi- 

 ture. Just below the cattle bridge over the backwater a 

 mallard and his consort circle round, sacred, of course, 

 at this time of year. The duck has, I suspect, a nest 

 or a small family somewhere about in the water- 

 meadows. Last year two nested side by side within 

 a foot of one another under the alder-bush near my 

 boundary-fence, which we are now rapidly approach- 

 ing, and reared families, of nine and seven respectively, 

 from which I took tithe in August. Here the main 

 stream is separated from Shaw water by a brick-and- 

 iron hatchway, impassable by boat or canoe ; but the 

 backwater joins the still wide winding stream below, 

 and a boarded portage across the peninsula sloping 

 into the water on each side makes it easy enough to 

 carry the canoe across when some of the party want 

 to go farther down the stream to enjoy a view of the 

 beautiful Elizabethan house of my hospitable neigh- 

 bour. There King Charles made his headquarters 

 during the second battle of Newbury, which was 

 fought all round the ground which I and my dog have 

 just been traversing. 



Up to now I have seen nothing to shoot, but just 

 opposite to my lowest bridge, over which I shall 

 cross into Horsepools to turn homewards, a mark pre- 

 sents itself. There, in that patch of sedges in the 

 backwater, a dabchick has constructed its absurdly 

 prominent nest, and is now engaged in its maternal 

 but ridiculous habit of working away for dear life 

 covering up the eggs with reeds at the sight of a man, 

 a gun, and a dog. The ostrich, which hides its head 

 in the sand, has become proverbial for its stupidity, 



