240 MELTON AND HOIMESPUN 



minute later he entered the room with the news that 

 " wind and tide wor jest right for settin' to the fowl 

 on the banks." He also expressed some little surprise 

 at finding a keen big-gunner devouring breakfast when 

 he should have been fully equipped and ready to embark. 

 I did not keep the old chap waiting long, however, and 

 taking my eight-bore from a corner of the room, I accom- 

 panied him down the crooked, cobble-paved streets to 

 a patch of shingly beach where a number of both double 

 and single handed gunning-punts were hauled up high 

 and dry, while a dozen or so antiquated, but nevertheless 

 serviceable, stanchion-guns reposed on a wooden rack, 

 exposed to the weather and open to the ravages of the 

 prowling thief. But neither wind nor weather can 

 damage these ancient duck-guns, for their barrels are 

 coated with grey paint, their muzzles plugged against 

 rain, snow and salt spray, and their locks and breech 

 parts clothed in waterproof canvas. Anent the pilfering 

 fraternity — well, old Gilson will tell you that a dishonest 

 man may not be found in his native village. Let this be 

 as it may, it would require an enterprising and herculean 

 thief to bear off one of these great fowling-pieces. The 

 launching of the punt and loading and rigging of the 

 stanchion-gun in the bows of the shallow craft did not 

 occupy very much time, although the work was done by 

 the feeble light of a much-battered hurricane lamp. 



" We be the first gunners afloat 'smarnin', an' they do 

 say 'tis the y'urly bird as catches the wurrm," chuckled 

 old Gilson, as he shoved into the narrow winding gully, 

 which with the rising tide would carry us to the great 

 banks of sea-wrack-covered ooze, the favourite feeding- 

 ground of thousands of wildfowl. 



