PON TINE MARSHES. 163 



so much out, had turned everything upside down, 

 and the ducks didn't seem to have any particular 

 feeding ground, but were dotted all over the place. 

 I went out one night near the house where we 

 were stopping, but though I heard plenty flying 

 over, I never got a bird. 



I remember that a great rough, brigand-looking 

 fellow, who was waiting also for a flight, came up to 

 me and begged me to give him some polvere Inglese. 

 I had some with me, but as I thought Roman powder, 

 which was horrible stuff, would do as well for him, 

 I made a great favour of it, and gave him a few 

 charges, telling him that English powder was very 

 hard to get, and that he must be very careful of it. 



In talking to him I asked him if the people in 

 the Maremma, or marshes, did not surfer a good deal 

 from malaria or Roman fever. " Oh, yes," he said, 

 " some did." "Did you ever have it yourself?" I 

 asked. " Ok, si, signore" he said, "si, sovente, 

 sovente ; ma la malaria d'una venire voto" (Oh, 

 yes, sir, he said, often, often ; but the malaria of an 

 empty belly.) 



As there was not much shooting to be done some 

 of the party said, " Let us go back to Rome." I was 

 getting tired of the kind of life myself; they played 



M 2 



