252 MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



But luck sometimes falls to the lot of the shore-shooter 

 when he leasts expect it. In this case, luck is heralded 

 by a long-drawn " cur-lee ! " which puts the gunner on 

 the alert. Keeping every portion of his anatomy weU 

 hidden in the pit, he awaits the coming of the curlew, 

 which are flying over the contiguous marshes towards 

 the shore, and may, perchance, pass within shot of the 

 pit. 



Cur-lee ! cur-lee / cur-lee ! What a row the cunning 

 and keen-sighted birds make as they travel across the 

 treeless marshes and come screeching over the head of 

 the patient gunner. The Doctor springs to his feet, and, 

 singling out a bird flying within the " brown " of the 

 herd, he fires. A leash drop to the contents of the right 

 barrel, while the left accounts for yet another bird ere 

 the remainder of the herd fly scolding and shrieking to 

 the outlying ooze-banks. 



Splashes and streaks of liquid gold and scarlet now 

 brighten the grey eastern heavens, and these, in turn, 

 fade away and give place to a cloudless sky of turquoise 

 blue. Stunted trees and bushes on the adjacent marshes 

 lose the grotesque forms which they assume under the 

 pale beams of the moon, and during the uncertain light 

 of early morning; the outlines of the sea-walls are no 

 longer leaden clouds upon the sky-line, but high, grassy 

 escarpments of solid and unvarying structure. The 

 dawn of Yuletide is here ; the flight is over, and the two 

 gunners wend their way homewards across the frosty 

 marshes, one to attend to the bodily ills of his fisherfolk 

 patients, the other to barter a leash of mallard and a 

 curlew for a joint of tough " Chris'mas " beef and a bunch 

 of evergreens. 



