18 EAMBLES AFTEE SPOET. 



now about half-tide-rising, and we consequently had 

 some three hours to wait for the ebb-flow — the best time 

 to make a good shot. When birds are scarce and wild 

 in mild weather, the best way is to keep going up the 

 latches, and firing at small bunches as often as you have 

 a chance ; but in weather like we were out in, the birds 

 are so hungry and tame that it is not worth while to risk 

 the almost certainty of getting a heavy shot later on for 

 the sake of some half-dozen birds. The only drawback 

 is, that some '^ popper^' may chance to be creeping about 

 up a latch after a duck or two, and fire just as you are 

 setting up to your flock of wigeon, and you have the 

 satisfaction of seeing them get up like an army and fly 

 off to the sea. However, on this occasion we were lucky ; 

 we heard no guns, and Dan knew that old Simon was off 

 Branksea, looking after an immense flock of geese that 

 had been seen there. It gave one a queer feeling to look 

 far away over the mud banks, stretched out like some 

 kuge antediluvian monsters, and think if one should 

 get lost on their hideous, slimy banks. I was soon 

 aroused from any mawkish feelings of this kind by 

 Dan knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and telling 

 me to " douse ^^ mine. "They^re whistling away over 

 there — a purty good company I allow they be.''' I 

 listened ; but, beyond the wailing of an owl off Brank- 

 sea, I heard nothing. Dan loaded his gun with about 

 ten ounces of the smallest duckshot. " We'll get 

 close enough to 'em, I'll warrant 'e, without using 

 mould." We now gently pulled out of the latch, and, 

 on getting into the open, I at last heard a sort of 

 confused noise, like the sound of distant rain: it was 

 the noise made by innumerable wigeon floating up with 

 the advancing tide, whistling and "charming" after their 



