PEEP O' DAY ON THE SALTINGS 251 



With eyes turned shorewards, the Doctor peers through 

 the still uncertain light for the approach of something 

 he knows not of what species it may be clothed in 

 feathers. The rhythmical " swish, swish, swish ! " of 

 many pairs of wings cleaving the air is now heard, and 

 he obtains a momentary glimpse of a number of hazy 

 forms winging seawards at a speed approaching one 

 hundred miles per hour. The double report of the 

 i2-bore awakens the slumbering echoes of the morning. 

 But there is no answering " thud " on the contiguous 

 salt-marsh the " thud " that betokens a successful shot 

 and the bunch of mallard continue on their flight to 

 the tide unscathed, while the disappointed sportsman 

 wonders how in the name of misfortune he managed to 

 " muff " with both barrels, and, incidentally, whether 

 " Long " Perry will chip him overmuch. 



A second bunch of mallard glide over the salt-marshes, 

 and, the old gunning-pit being immediately under the 

 line of flight and the light having greatly improved, the 

 Doctor manages to score a fat young mallard with the 

 right barrel, while a duck, hard hit, after carrying on a 

 short distance across the salts, drops with a sounding 

 " plonk " into a shallow swidge. The first bird is dead 

 as the proverbial mutton, but the second, although 

 very hard hit, leads the Doctor a merry dance among 

 the muddy runnels of the saltings ere he runs it to 

 earth in a bed of glasswort. From time to time the 

 report of " Long " Perry's lo-bore comes booming 

 across the salt-marshes. Nothing further worthy of 

 powder and shot ventures to pass within range of the 

 old gunning-pit, however, and the Doctor begins to 

 think that his sport for this morning is finished. 



