MIDNIGHT ON THE OOZES. 187 



ture of the vicissitudes of wildfowling by night is to narrate 

 an ideal campaign as experienced during the month of 

 February. 



To begin with : A continuous gale, blowing fresh from 

 S. and W., for five whole days rendered all operations afloat 

 impossible. Nothing could be done but "loaf," smoke, and 

 watch a falling barometer. Weary days ! The gale at 

 length subsided, and the sixth evening offered fair promise 

 of the patiently awaited opportunity : the moon, a few days 

 past the full, shone brightly, and under her silvery rays the 

 calm waters gleam clear and white. The tide would flow at 

 4 A.M., so an hour before midnight we launched the punt, 

 and got under weigh with the first of the flood- tide. A 

 couple of miles' paddling brought us to the outskirts of the 

 ooze, and soon there was evidence of the presence of the 

 Anatidae. For miles along the dreary mud-ilats rang out 

 those inspiring notes, and this in a spot where by day not 

 the ghost of a duck could be seen. Game-shooters good 

 sportsmen, too who confine their wildfowling attempts to 

 the hours of daylight, have before now returned from such 

 a place in disgust, declaring "there was not a duck in the 

 district." Nor is there, by day, but a change comes on the 

 scene at night. Then, soon after dark, in their thousands 

 the duck-tribe pour in from the sea, and by midnight the 

 deserted oozes teem with wild profusion of bird-life. 



At first we are only on the fringe of the feathered hosts 

 among the stragglers, single ducks, twos and threes. The 

 tide being still low, these scattered birds were most difficult 

 to discern, feeding among the loose stones and drift bunches 

 of sea-weed which strewed the shore. They, in fact, usually 

 detected us before we were aware of their proximity, which 

 we only learned by the frantic quack, flutter, and splash as 

 they sprang from the slob within a few yards. The main 

 bodies are, during low tide, so straggled about as seldom to 

 offer a tempting shot ; over and over again we dimly dis- 

 cerned in the bright moonlight little bunches fours, sixes, 

 and eights quietly swimming on the white water, or 

 greedily dabbling on the ooze, and within half-gunshot. 

 " Won't you take that lot, sir ? " whispers my companion ; 



