THIRD DAY. 47 
sun gilded the dead branches of the ancient oaks and the leafy 
clumps of wood ;.a gentle evening air was breathing through 
the rustling brakes and reed-beds, and before us lay the broad 
oily sheets of water only broken by the rings made by the 
rising fish and the diving of ducks and Moorhens. Crows 
were settling on the trees preparing for their night’s rest, the 
songs of the smaller birds had gradually ceased, and just a few 
warbling sounds rose from sedge and bush, while light vapours 
hung over the water and the mosquitoes tormented us with 
all their might. Some Marsh-Harriers glided over the 
thickets with their reeling flight, in search of their evening 
meal of Moorhens; and would that they had devoured all 
those noisy ear-torturing brutes! An Osprey also passed 
slowly over a clump of trees near our boat, and though it was 
rather too far off I relied on the powers of my gun and fired 
both barrels at this beautiful light-flying eagle, and it dropped 
into a thicket of reeds and bushes, rather hard hit. Ferencz 
hurried up in his “csikel ;” but all his searching was fruitless, 
which I greatly regretted, as I had never killed an Osprey, and 
this smallish finely-coloured eagle, with its Lapwing-like 
flight, is an attraction to all sportsmen; we were, however, to 
form a closer acquaintance with it two days later. 
We went back the same way that we had come in the 
morning, and on reaching the picturesque but not over agree- 
able passage between the banks of earth near the junction of 
the channel with the main arm of the river I saw fresh tracks 
of Red Deer in the soft loam, evidently made by some very 
heavy animals. 
A few more strokes of the oars brought us into the broad 
stream, where the men had to pull lustily to get up to the 
fishing-colony now visible in the distance, and on reaching it 
we found all the sportsmen already assembled round their 
spoils. Three Sea-Eagles, one Mallard, one White-eyed Duck, 
a Tawny Owl, and a variety of small birds shot by Brehm for 
