42 IN THE LAND OF TIIE BORA. 



The following evening I returned to the 

 marshes, but met with the worst of bad luck, 

 for the first cartridge with which I dropped a 

 bird jammed hopelessly, and I had to turn home- 

 wards. I was well out towards the middle of the 

 fen, and as I was floundering back a skein of 

 widgeon swept over me. Although they were 

 rather high up, I gave them the left barrel, and 

 the one I had picked out, after staggering about 

 a bit, fell a long way on. Of course I turned 

 back to get him, but to my regret the bog got so 

 deep that that and the rapidly setting sun 

 warned me to give it up, and I turned regret- 

 fully away, only reaching terra firma just before 

 dark. As I have before said, these marshes are 

 many miles in length, and here, near the lake, 

 they must be a couple of miles wide. I cannot 

 conceive any more fascinating spot for winter 

 shooting, or, rather I could not then, but perhaps 

 the Narenta marshes in South Dalmatia should be 

 awarded the palm. 



This was the last day of our Crusoe-dom, and 

 much we regretted to leave our pleasant islet. 

 The priest, who is an enthusiastic sea-fisherman, 

 had placed his boat at our disposal for our move, 

 which we fixed for the 28th of August. 



