ON THE SALT-MAESHES 197 



upon the wondrous glow of the northern lights from 

 the north-west prairie, on a bright Canadian winter's 

 night ; but never have we witnessed anything in Nature 

 more beautiful than the English seascape we have 

 endeavoured here to portray. 



" A main splendid marnin', and no mistake, maister," 

 remarked a guernsey-clad giant of a fisherman, as he 

 rested from his arduous task of bait-digging, for a few 

 minutes, to admire the kaleidoscopic cloud-picture. 

 " But," added he, wielding his wooden spade more 

 vigorously than before, " I doubt yonder sun be a-bringin' 

 masterful dirty weather along with him." 



My fisher friend proved a wise weather prophet, for 

 it blew a hard gale that night, and a coasting schooner 

 drove ashore within a few cable lengths of the yawl 

 and became a total wreck on the stone-faced sea-wall, 

 her crew of three men and a boy narrowly escaping with 

 their lives. 



The incoming tide was beginning to flood the out- 

 lying ooze-flats as we waded towards the beach through 

 some six inches of batter-like mud. A vast expanse 

 of saltings and ooze-flats was open to us to south, east, 

 and west ; a small fishing hamlet, containing, perhaps, 

 fifty cottages, a couple of inns, and a general store, 

 being the only sign of civilisation to be found within 

 a radius of several miles. 



The village having no great attraction for me, I set 

 my course in a contrary direction, towards a wide 

 stretch of salt-marshes which, although reputed to be 



