34 A BIRD COLLECTOR'S MEDLEY. 



here spans the river, and it proved a stupendous undertaking, it being doubtful 

 at one time whether the passage was to be negotiated with the bows or stern 

 in front, and our final success was owing less to the efforts of the oarsman 



than to the manual exertion of B , who was seated in the bows, and who, 



by painfully clawing the rough stonework, contrived after a time to pull us 

 through. Several yachts, a wherry, and an odd boat or two lay on the far 

 side, and after Providence had worried us a way through these, not without 

 much extraneous vituperation, we emerged at length on the open waters of 

 the Thurne. 



We had so far deferred all questions as to the haunts of the birds, but now 

 someone ventured to ask where he expected to find the Tits. The answer was 

 slow in coming, but monumental when it arrived : as the sun was shining, he 

 anticipated that they would be " lying at the bottoms of the pools beneath the 

 reeds ! " 



It did not strike us as a likely domicile, but we abstained from criticism, 

 and sat still in gloomy silence until at a fork in the river our boat came to a 

 sudden stop. Our Charon was evidently hazy as to the route, and tried to 

 solve the difficulty by volunteering to take us to both Hickling and Horsey 

 during the day. We said that one, if it was Hickling, would satisfy us, 

 and as a fishing boat fortunately turned up at this critical moment, we got 

 directions from those on board, and were soon again in motion towards 

 Heigham Sound. Here a strongish wind arose, and the rougli water proving 

 too much for Charon's dubious watermanship, he was at length induced to 

 relinquish the sculls. Not long afterwards he was tenderly laid to rest in the 

 bows, where he snored contentedly for the remainder of the day. 



Left to our own resources, we pulled steadily on along the Sound, turning 

 aside at times to explore some of the small pools which occur now and then 



amidst the forest of reeds which border them. Here B , anxious to exhibit 



his skill as a punter, recently acquired as it was by various watery experiences 

 at Oxford, volunteered to give us an exhibition for variety's sake, and I am 

 bound to say quanting proved far the most effective method of getting about. 

 As for the Reed Pheasants, carefully though we looked for them, we could find 

 no trace of their presence, though it is just possible that we heard their note 

 once or, to be more accurate, a sound which we did hear might, by a slight 

 stretch of imagination, have been described as representing the " ping, ping " 

 of the bird books. 



We were, however, most unlucky in the weather ; the wind got worse, and 

 the sun went in, and I should imagine it was just the sort of afternoon on which 

 they would skulk at the bottoms of the reeds. Goodness only knows whether 



