102 THE COMPLETE WILDFOWLER 
broken surf looked one vast sheet of white. Each in a rough 
ambuscade composed of boulder rocks and stones, my friend 
and I ensconced ourselves on one of the points mentioned. We 
had not long to wait. Heading the north-east gale, struggled 
on with remarkable progress a long string of about fifty mallard. 
Unfortunately, these birds passed just out of shot. The mallard 
had scarcely dwindled out of sight when we discerned a dark 
clump of birds approaching from the south along the coast-line. 
On they came, battling against the gale; they were brent. Just 
as they passed between my friend and me, they ‘‘ strung out” 
into line and afforded both of us a good chance to score. With 
an ounce and a half of No. 3 shot from my 1o-bore double, I 
killed my first bird clean at not more than twenty-five yards 
range. My second shot failed to take effect; probably I 
missed. The second-barrel shot was a very awkward one, for 
as the geese ‘‘speeled ” or rose alarmed at the first report they 
quickly drifted back with the wind over my head. My friend 
secured a double kill, both birds falling stone dead on the 
point. His second bird was a long shot. My friend’s gun 
was a Greener double 8-bore—a very powerful shooting gun. 
We had just got resettled after gathering the geese when, like 
a flash, there darted past us a drove of black duck (scoter). 
Before we could snatch up our guns they were past, going with 
the wind like streaks of lightning. Then a very large com- 
pany of widgeon came. Out of this company of birds, with 
the united effect of both guns fired almost simultaneously, we 
brought down seven, and another, carrying on, fell dead in the 
sea. This last bird, of course, could not be retrieved, even 
with the aid of adog. The sea was raging like a boiling pot 
over the rocks, and to have urged a dog to face such water 
would have been inhuman. As these widgeon passed, some of 
them were so close that I could distinguish the handsome 
cocks from the sombre hens. They were bunching just nicely, 
when the report of my friend’s gun, sounding in the gale like 
