WITH ROD AND GUN ON THE MARSHES 27 



knock yonder varmints about," coolly remarked the red- 

 headed little marshman, as he collared hold of the barrels 

 of the gun to take it from me. 



" I'll see you hanged first ! " was all I allowed myself 

 to utter. 



" Well, go for 'un yourself, and miss the 'ole blamed 

 lot," sulkily returned Thomas, as he disappeared into the 

 homestead, slamming the door behind him. 



Having made a landmark of a stunted thornbush 

 growing on the embankment at a point almost opposite 

 the fowl, I crept quietly along the base of the wall on the 

 marsh side until I arrived at the bush. Then came the 

 most difficult part of the stalk, for the face of the wall was 

 covered with a sheet of ice, and at the least sound I knew 

 the shielduck would be off. 



Inch by inch and foot by foot I worked my way 

 steadily upward, until, after what appeared to me to 

 have been quite an age of crawling, I found my head on a 

 level with the top of the sea-wall. 



But where were the shielducks ? Flown, vanished 

 like a dream, and yet I could have sworn I was as silent 

 as a cat during the stalk. 



The cause of the sudden disappearance of the fowl 

 soon became apparent, however, for lined up like a small 

 regiment of soldiers along that part of the sea-wall facing 

 the homestead I saw the whole of the Thomas family, 

 evidently enjoying to the full the discomfort of " the 

 bloke from Lunnon." And, although the charming group 

 of marshmen were too far away from my standpoint to 



