DUCK SHOOTING 323 



through the chill, dew-drenched grasses of tropical 

 Africa. The large bunches of seed-vessels, all 

 roped together by exquisitely glittering strands 

 of dew-bejewelled cobweb, discharge cataracts of 

 icy water upon one, and, such is the volume of 

 moisture they can contain in the cases of the 

 taller cane-like grasses, that one is often com- 

 pletely drenched to the skin in less than the first 

 mile. It does not, however, take the rapidly 

 increasing heat of the sun very long to remedy 

 this, at worst, but temporary discomfort. 



But to continue my narrative. In due time, 

 and with the inevitable soaking, we finally reached 

 the marsh, I having come off better than the rest 

 by unostentatiously marching in the rear, thus 

 coming into contact with grass already rubbed 

 partially dry by the persons or clothing of my 

 immediate predecessors. Our further progress 

 was here barred by the usual surrounding belt of 

 reeds, so, as the piece of water was of an irregular 

 oblong shape, it was decided that one of us should 

 get afloat at each end, and we should thus be 

 enabled to keep the wild-fowl as long as possible 

 on the move between us. My companion there- 

 upon set out for the lower end, and, in order to 

 give him time, I seated myself upon my canoe and 

 waited. After the lapse of about half an hour, 

 judging that he must about now be reaching his 

 starting-point, I gave orders to push the canoe 

 quietly through the high spear-grass which hid the 

 water from us. Very gently this was done. I 

 seated myself in the bow, the proprietor pushed 

 off, and we dragged our way as quietly as possible 



