WHEN THE NIGHT FALLS. 223 



There is nothing more to see here ; they will rise 

 presently and fly in two or three lots out to the bar. 

 It will be a row then, the water and the fowl to- 

 gether. We could shoot one or two, but what use 

 would it be ? only powder and shot wasted ; for if 

 they dropped dead they would only spin away like 

 corks. 



"Hear they come — hark to 'em! This lot's 

 geese : we can't see 'em all, but we can hear ; they 

 cry like a lot of beagles. Just listen ! Ain't them 

 yelpers goin' it ? Here comes a worse lot, shrieking 

 and hollering ready to split their throats. Hear 

 'em swish on ; curlews all that lot. Here come 

 the wigeon, there go the ducks. Now listen to the 

 roar and swish of the tide goin' out. Where would 

 a man, or twenty men be, if they got in that with a 

 boat ? " 



Only tattered wrecks of humanity, drifting out 

 into the night. 



Here is a hollow under the hill — only one of 

 hollows innumerable to be found there — where 

 farms and cottages nestle in the trees at the foot 

 of the slope. Rain has fallen in gentle April 

 showers, just as we look for it to fall when April 



