256 BIRD-LIFE OF THE BORDERS. 



daylight would have appeared, and even if the Wigeon 

 remained inside revealed to the whistling phalanx its 

 threatened danger. Still, after the storm of yesterday, we 

 cherished a hope that the Wigeon would hesitate to take the 

 sea ; and as the daylight hroke we had the momentary satis- 

 faction of observing that one of the two packs did elect to 

 remain on the smooth and sheltered waters of the estuary. 

 After many gyrations, and a loud chorus of their musical 

 " Whee-yoo ! " this company settled on the deep water some 

 half a mile outside our position, the other section going 

 out to sea. But Fortune was only toying with us, for, 

 after patiently waiting till the flowing tide had carried them 

 into shoal water where an attack was possible, we had once 

 more to submit to failure. This pack was composed ex- 

 clusively of Wigeon (the other having been at least half 

 Mallards, which are always easier of access by daylight), 

 and refused to be cajoled, rising some three hundred yards 

 off, and following their companions to the open sea. 



Up to this point our lack of success had arisen exclusively 

 from circumstances entirely beyond our control fogs, 

 storms, tides, and the like. But now we did throw away a 

 last remaining chance to some extent through an error in 

 judgment. Far away along the edge of the rapidly dis- 

 appearing mud we descried our " pricked " goose a black 

 dot bobbing about on the tide ; not another fowl was in 

 sight. A careful scrutiny of the remaining banks with the 

 binoculars satisfied us that no ducks remained anywhere 

 near us, so I proceeded to gather the " pensioner." Alas ! 

 as the report of the cripple- stopper rang out across the 

 waters, there rose from behind the bank of a tiny creek over 

 a score of ducks all Mallards which, had we but been 

 aware of their presence, would in all probability have fallen 

 an easy prey. Fortune and the elements appeared to con- 

 spire to deprive us of the few chances which are the utmost 

 that can be expected in a mild season, and with despondent 

 hearts we watched the little string of Mallards, our last 

 hope, speeding away to the open sea. 



The rest of the day was spent in fruitless attempts to 

 out-manoeuvre the impracticable geese. Once only did we 



