SHORE "POPPING" 143 



creek than the spot I should have struck had I continued 

 on my original beat. My experience regarding teal is 

 that the straighter and quicker they are approached the 

 better chance one has of getting a shot into them. 



Making a landmark of a beacon standing on the margin 

 of the creek, and at a point almost opposite the teal, I 

 retraced my footsteps, and then walked directly towards 

 the beacon. Forty-five, 40, and now less than 30 yards 

 of mud lie between the little duck and myself, and yet, in 

 spite of the fact that every bright, keen eye is doubtless 

 turned towards me, not a single bird gets up. Another 

 squelching step forward on my part, however, and up 

 spring the whole bunch like a flight of rockets. So 

 closely packed were the teal that no fewer than five of 

 their number dropped stone-dead to the contents of 

 my first barrel, and a single bird with a wing down to 

 my second. With a great to-do, the rest of the bunch 

 flew like lightning up the creek, but wheeling suddenly, 

 they passed me again just out of range, and then headed 

 seawards. Having dealt with the cripple and gathered 

 the slain, I pulled across the creek in the leaky ferry- 

 boat, and made my way across a second patch of salt- 

 marshes to the before-mentioned gunning-pit, which lay 

 near the mouth of the creek. The pit had evidently not 

 been used for some little time, as it was half filled with 

 rubbish that had been thrown up by the high spring 

 tides. There was no time to lose before getting under 

 cover, for the " flood " was making very rapidly, and 

 many of the outlying banks were already awash. The 



