92 A MEDLEY OF SPORT 



Needless to say, the old chap's request was readily 

 granted, and no sooner had he pulled away from the 

 yacht than my host suggested that we should also try 

 our luck in the upper reaches of the creek. 



It was indeed an ideal night for wildfowling ; the 

 wind was favourable, and the cloud-flecked moon threw 

 just sufficient light to enable one to follow the move- 

 ments of birds on the water or as they nimbly quartered 

 the ooze-flats and blackgrounds in search of food. The 

 moon was, fortunately, right ahead of us, and, keeping 

 well under the left-hand shore of the creek, M. steered 

 the tide-carried punt past the many points and juts of 

 the glasswort-fringed salt marshes. 



" Hark ! Did you hear that widgeon ? " whispered 

 my companion, just as we were entering a small bay in 

 the salts. I had heard the shrill " whe-oh " of a widgeon, 

 and the call appeared to come from close at hand. 

 Suddenly four dark forms emerged from the mouth of a 

 muddy rill, which wormed its sinuous way through an 

 evil-smelling patch of sludge until it emptied itself in the 

 creek about sixty yards distant from the punt. It was 

 easy to see that the forms in question were duck of some 

 kind, and a second " whe-oh " from one of them dis- 

 pelled any possible doubts one might have entertained 

 regarding their species. Not a sound escaped the lips of 

 my companion, but from the manner in which he steered 

 the punt I knew that he had also seen the widgeon. On 

 and on we drew gradually and noiselessly towards them, 

 until but thirty-five yards or so of water lay between the 



