CHAP, xix.] FOX AND WILD GEESE. 155 



feed on a small field of newly sown peas. Simon was delighted, 

 and promised me a good shot in the morning, if I left him at 

 the nearest farm-house to take his own steps towards ensuring 

 me the chance. 



Accordingly the next morning, at daylight, I went with him 

 to the spot : the geese were still resting on the sands, not having 

 yet made their morning meal. In the very centre of the pea- 

 field Simon had constructed what he called an " ambush ;" this 

 was a kind of hut, or rather hole in the ground, just large enough 

 to contain one person, whose chin would be on a level with the 

 field. The ground was rather rough, and he had so disposed the 

 clods of earth that I was quite invisible till the geese came within 

 a yard or two of me. Into this hole he made me worm myself, 

 while he went to a hedge at some distance, for the chance of the 

 birds coming over his head after I had fired. The sun was not 

 yet up when I heard the cackle of the geese, and soon afterwards 

 the whole flock came soaring over my head ; round and round 

 they flew, getting lower every circle. I could several times 

 have fired at single birds as they flew close by me, and so well 

 concealed was I with clods of earth, dried grass, &c., that they 

 never suspected my presence in the midst of their breakfast-table. 

 Presently they all alighted at the farthest end of the field from me, 

 and commenced shovelling up the peas in the most wholesale 

 manner. Though the field was small, they managed to feed from 

 one end to the other without coming within sixty yards of me; 

 having got to the end of the field, they turned round, and this 

 time J saw that they would pass within shot. Suddenly they all 

 halted, and I saw that something had alarmed them ; I looked 

 cautiously out, and saw, in the direction in which their heads 

 were turned, a large fox sitting upright and looking wistfully at 

 the geese, but seeming quite aware that he had no chance of 

 getting at them. The morning sun, however, which was just 

 rising, and which, shining on his coat, made it appear perfectly 

 red, warned him that it was time to be off to the woods, and he 

 trotted quietly away, passing my ambuscade within forty yards, 

 but always keeping his head turned towards the geese, as if 

 unwilling to give up all hope of getting one of them. The 

 distant bark of a dog, however, again warned him, and he 

 quickened his pace and was soon out of sight. The geese seemed 



