THE SHELD-DUCK itj 



by the tide, and when the sea comes thundering in, 

 the lower parts of the marsh-dunes get covered. 

 When the storm abates and the water runs off, 

 great pools of salt water are left in some of the 

 hollows, destined to evaporate ultimately as the sun 

 bends his genial heat down on these haunts of the 

 Sheld-duck. Beach litter, such as stones, pebbles, 

 broken shells, sea-wrack, and tangle, is strewn all 

 over the place where the hollows lie near the tide. 

 Bents, sea-holly, and sand-convolvuli, and in all 

 directions stunted, starved, prickly thorn-bushes, 

 are dotted about. The whole place is honey- 

 combed with rabbit burrows ; no wonder the 

 shooters keep open order, very wide apart, when 

 at rare intervals these desolate places are visited. 

 As some of them are completely surrounded by 

 water at high tide, a boat is necessary ; the full 

 consent of the owner is also needed, as the sand- 

 dune warrens are rented. The rabbits do fetch 

 something, but it is for the sake of their skins that 

 they are captured, for in winter the wind cuts like a 

 knife, and the fowlers need to have good jackets on. 

 In the summer, so very trying are these places that 

 I have known the best fowler out of the lot — one 

 who would think but little of plunging into salt 

 water in the dead of winter in order to gather his 

 fowl before they drifted away — completely done 

 up, and the other men were in worse plight than 

 he was. 



The dunes are sandy wildernesses of all shapes 

 and sizes, a perfect maze — when you reach the heart 



