ON MAESH AND DYKE 313 



" I thought you said this was the best island for fowl 



anywhere along the coast," grumbled B , as he gazed 



somewhat despondently at the meagre bag whilst we sat 

 under the lee of the sea-wall to smoke our pipes. 



Tommy saved the situation by remarking : " So it 

 be, maister ; leastways, faither do say so, and I reckon he 

 knows a blazin' sight more about the mashes nor you or 

 any other Lunnoner. But you can't alius expect to find 

 fowl, can 'ee ? Dear loif e, look yonder to that gert bunch 

 of owd oxbirds a-settled on the ooze spit ; dang me if 

 theer bain't thousands of 'em. Hand I yer gun, maister, 

 and I'll show 'ee how to stalk they warmints." 



We looked in the direction of a long spit of ooze lying 

 about eighty yards outside the sea-wall, and some five 

 hundred yards higher up the creek, upon which were con- 

 gregated a flock of some thousands of dunlin.^ 



Putting a couple of No. 8 shot cartridges into my gun, 

 and warning Tommy not to shoot himself, I handed the 

 weapon to the little fourteen-year-old marshman, and away 

 he started to stalk the dunlin ; creeping snake-like across 

 the muddy saltings on all fours, and taking advantage of 

 every little bit of cover afforded by the sea-lavender and 

 other rank salinacious plants that flourish so luxuriantly 

 on the salt marshes. 



At length he disappeared from view into a deep muddy 

 gut, which wormed its sinuous way through the saltings 

 down to the creek, and would take the boy within range 

 of the birds. Some ten minutes passed by, but not the 



^ Dunlin or oxbird, a small wader scarcely worth powder and shot. 



