262 RAMBLES AFTER SPORT. 



fog melts, dissolves, and rolls sullenly away before the 

 rosy-fingered morn, and there before me, as I take a 

 quiet peep, lies the placid pool like a polished mirror. I 

 hadn't much time to think of the beauties of nature, 

 however, as I was uncommonly cold and wanted my 

 breakfast. First out come a dozen from the reeds, 

 charming away and flapping about in the waters, having 

 their morning wash before going out to sea for their 

 day's picnic ; then another trip, and soon the whole pool 

 is half covered with them. Ah ! if they had known that 

 an old Poole punter was within easy range of them \ 

 There are so many, that I hardly know where to fire, but 

 at last about a dozen redheads got quarrelling over a 

 piece of weed or something just opposite my stand, and 

 in an instant I cut a lane through them with two ounces 

 of No. 5. At the sound of the gun away went the mass 

 of fowl helter-skelter out to sea with a noise like a hail- 

 storm, but not without leaving one of their number in 

 the reeds dead on the spot, besides a couple of winged 

 ones. "Well, I guess you've been at this game afore, 

 mister," says Ryles, as I empty the water out of my 

 boots and scrape all the mud I can off" my trowsers. My 

 first discharge had killed four outright and crippled one, 

 and altogether I had got eight duck with my two barrels 

 No. 10-bore. I must, however, say that Ryles's dog was 

 a wonder; he never barked, and never seemed to be 

 around, but he always turned up at meal-times, and was 

 " all thar " when out shooting. We got back as quick 

 as possible, and while my comrade got breakfast ready, I 

 dried my clothes and made myself comfortable. The 

 rest of the day we devoted to shooting quail ; I shot half 

 the time and Ryles the rest. We got twenty brace be- 

 tween us, of which I accounted for fifteen single birds, — 



