THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER ON THE MARSHES 



To the man who is wont to shoot on the uplands, where 

 coverts abound and hedgerows separate one field from 

 another, a day's partridge shooting on the marshes would 

 not greatly appeal, perhaps. More especially would this 

 be the case if the " uplander's " method of shooting took 

 the form of driving, and not the older-fashioned mode of 

 " walking "up or " dogging." 



Not a hedgerow, nor anything bearing the slightest re- 

 semblance to one, will be found on the vast expanse of 

 marshlands that fringe many portions of the east and 

 south-east coasts. Generally speaking, indeed, these 

 low-lying levels are devoid of timber, trees, and bushes, 

 beyond, perchance, a stunted elm or willow, with here 

 and there a clump of bramble-shrub growing under the 

 more sheltered sides of the sea-walls. These high escarp- 

 ments in many cases entirely surround the marshes, and 

 thus prevent the incursions of the spring tides, which would 

 otherwise inundate them. In lieu of fences, one marsh is 

 divided from another by a system of narrow dykes or 

 drains, which not only carry off the superfluous surface 

 water from the levels, but also, to a certain degree, 

 irrigate them. On the majority of marshes, will be 

 found one or more small sedge-fringed lagoons, or, 

 as they are locally called, fleets, of fresh water. These 

 lagoons give excellent harbourage for wild duck and 



