12 A BIRD COLLECTOR'S MEDLEY. 



CHAPTER III. 

 SHORE SHOOTING FROM A BOAT. 



THE majority of shooters, at all events those on the wrong side of thirty, 

 will, we imagine, always be attracted by the cleanly comfort of a rowing boat ; 

 and there is much to be said for this method of proceeding, always supposing 

 that you can come across that veiitable rara avis, a good-tempered, unofficious, 

 non-avaricious boatman. 



In the first place, stray birds seem to come nearer to a boat than to a 

 pedestrian ; and secondly, one's energies are saved up till the likely spots are 

 reached, instead of being frittered away by carrying one's lunch, and by a 

 tiring tramp over the unproductive ground near the village ; thirdly, you can 

 carry with you the materials for making tea ; and lastly, the mud-larker may 

 always be stopped short in the midst of some exciting chase by suddenly 

 finding himself at the edge of a creek too deep to be forded. 



There are, in fact, few more enjoyable ways of spending a fine day than 

 the one now under discussion, and long shall I remember my own first ex- 

 perience of one such typical and delightful expedition. Starting gaily on 

 the ebb, down a well-known Norfolk estuary, we, though scarcely clear of 

 the houses, were soon engaged in watching the motions of several Common 

 Sandpipers as they pottered about beneath the overhanging banks, their 

 sheeny plumage glistening brightly in the morning sun, when, thump! thump! 

 there was a sudden commotion in the bows, followed by a hasty and in- 

 effectual shot. A Scaup drake had flown into us unawares, and escaped 

 black fate for the nonce at the cost of nothing more serious than a jar to 

 its nervous system. Some minutes later the bow gun spoke again, and a 

 Knot struck the water within a few feet of the boat, while the shooter in 

 the stern wheeled round just in time to drop a Golden Plover which had 

 already left us forty yards in the rear. The sound of the shots brought up a 

 Merlin to see what was happening, but he prudently refrained from any close 

 investigation, and we, of course, began to speculate eagerly as to what we 

 should see when we reached the much lauded mud-flats beyond. But, as 

 often happens, the birds had appeared just where they were not expected, and 



