THE OLD SPORT 
i43 
the solemnity of night is transformed into the keen 
activity of a fusilade of destruction. The shore 
waders that have been feeding and fattening under 
the protection of the law are exposed to the yearly 
attack. 
Two great Herons aroused by the unusual sights 
and sounds rise with inquisitive croak and fly low 
from the outer shore toward the rush-protected 
water. Flashes and reports along their course seem 
to confuse them, and the usual grace of their steady 
strokes gives place to momentary awkward turnings 
as they pass close from the invisible to the invisible. 
The first hurried flight of the hunted is seen reflected 
in a long, shallow lagoon imprisoned by a stretch of 
sandy beach. The birds are invisible against the 
background of Willows and Rushes, but in the 
natural mirror of the Lagoon the light from the moon- 
lit clouds reflects their passing forms. They are 
Ring-necks and small Sandpipers, bunched close with 
quivering wings, and their mirrored forms seem to 
shudder rather than swerve at a startlingly near 
report. The fusilade continues wherever the uncertain 
light reveals the location of the restless and startled 
waders. It grows more noisily aggressive as the 
advancing sunlight blots out the Dog Star and the 
faint crescent. Flashes are no longer visible, but the 
noise increases as the disturbed and hunted flocks 
scurry along the shore in a helpless, eager search for 
