Duck-shooting in Wermland, Sweden. 61 



loth to leave the ground till the birds had done feeding. There is 

 to me a kind of fascination in this quiet, solitary sport, which I never 

 find in any other. The dead silence which reigns over all, unbroken 

 save by the calls of the different night-birds as they pass over (and 

 these are real music to the naturalist's ear), the consciousness that 

 no prying observer is "touting you through the hedge," and the 

 excitement of the sport, all give it peculiar charms in my eye j and 

 if a man gave me the choice of the best day's covert-shooting, or a 

 good night on duck-shooting on a favourite feeding-ground, I should 

 without hesitation choose the latter. There is a singular little island 

 butting into the river in the middle of this swamp. It is not a 

 natural island, but evidently a large heap of gravel rising like a 

 pinnacle, perhaps 100 feet high, several hundred acres in extent. It 

 has evidently partly been thrown up by the hand, and many sup- 

 pose that in the early days an old cloister stood here, which suppo- 

 sition is doubtless correct, for the village church stands on another 

 height not far distant, and this valley was probably peopled when 

 all the neighbouring district was one wild unbroken forest. Be this 

 as it may, this immense mound is now all grown over with fir and 

 juniper, and this is my camping-place when I shoot the swamp and 

 a more picturesque camping-place it would be hard to find. I had 

 drawn my punt up on to the strand of this island when I rowed over, 

 but unfortunately had not pulled it high enough up, and while I 

 was in the swamp it had drifted away, and when I came down to 

 row myself back over the river I found no boat. This was pleasant; 

 I did not much care to camp out, for a jolly friend on the other 

 side of the river was waiting up for me, and I much preferred a 

 glass of his hot brandy-and-water and a cigar to a " night out " on 

 " the dismal swamp." Moreover, it was dark, and some heavy drops 

 of rain were just beginning to fall. I could see the light twinkling 

 in his window about half a mile down the river, on the other side, 

 as if to tantalize me. However, I was not going to be beaten just 

 like this. There was a stand of boats about 500 yards down the 

 river on the other side, which the peasants used for rowing over the 

 river to church and for fishing 5 so I stripped (for the stream was 



