CHAPTER XI.

Moonlight Scene.

Frank replied,—"You are right, Dick, and while man has only reason, animals have instinct and reason too. At least I believe that the larger kind of animals have some share of reason. I have never told you about our colley bitch. Last year she had pups, and she was very much annoyed by a cat which would go prowling about the building where the bitch was kept; so the bitch took the opportunity of one day killing the cat. Now the cat had just had kittens, and all were drowned but one. When the mother was killed, its kitten cried most piteously, and had to be fed with milk by the servants. The bitch had not known that the cat had kittens, until she heard the kitten scream, and then she showed as plainly as possible that she was sorry for what she had done, and tookthe kitten to her own young ones, and seemed quite fond of it. Whenever it was taken away she would go for it and take it back again, and the kitten grew up with the pups, and was inseparable from them. Now I call that reason on the part of the bitch, and the desire to make amends for the injury she had done—But hark! what is that?"

A low booming sound not unlike the lowing of a bull, but more continued, resounded through the marsh and then ceased. Again the strange note was heard, and the boys looked at one another.

"What can it be?" said Jimmy, as the noise again quivered on the moonlit air.

Death's-head Moth.

"I know," said Frank, "it is a bittern. If we can only find its nest we shall be lucky. It does not often breed in England now, although it is often shot here in winter. Let us listen where the sound comes from."

They listened intently, and after an interval the sound was again repeated. They believed that it came from a reed-covered promontory which ran out into the broad on its eastern shore.

"Let us take the punt and go over," said Frank; so they rowed in the direction of the sound. They rowed round the promontory, and penetrated it as far as they could, and all was still and silent, and they discovered nothing.

Early the next morning they renewed their search, and while they were crashing through the very middle of the reed bed,the bittern rose with a hoarse cry, and flew away with a dull, heavy flight. And there, as good luck would have it, was its nest, a large structure of sticks, reeds and rushes, and in it were four eggs, large, round, and pale brown in colour. It was not in human nature (or at least in boy nature) to resist taking all the eggs.

Bittern.

The bittern is a singular bird both in shape and habits. Take a heron and shorten its legs, neck, and beak, and thicken it generally, and then deepen its plumage to a partridge-like brown, and you will have a pretty good idea of the bittern. At one time it was common enough in England, but the spread of cultivation, the drainage of the marshes, and the pursuit of the collector have rendered it rare; and while at some seasons it is pretty common all over the country where there are places fit for its breeding-ground, in other years scarcely a specimen can be seen, and its nest is now but rarely found. Its curious note has often puzzled the country people. It has been said to put its head under water or into a hollow reed, and then to blow, and so make a noise something like that produced by the famous blowing stone in the Vale of the White Horse.

The fact, however, appears to be that the noise is produced in the usual manner, and Morris says that the bittern "commonly booms when soaring high in the air with a spiral flight."

When suddenly surprised, its flight is more like that of a carrion crow when shot at in the air. If wounded, the bittern can defend itself remarkably well, turning itself on its back, and fighting with beak and claws. It cannot run well among the reeds, so when surprised it takes refuge in flight, although it is not by any means a good flier; and as the reeds grow too closely together for it to use its wings among them, it clambers up them with its feet, until it can make play with its wings. It is essentially nocturnal in its habits, hiding close among the reeds and flags by day.

Leaving Hoveton Broad, the boys sailed quietly down the river to Ranworth Broad, without adventure. They turned from the river along the dyke which led to the broad, and with their usual enterprise they tried to take a short cut through a thin corner of reeds growing in about two feet of water, which alone divided them from the broad. They stuck fast, of course; but their usual good fortune attended them, and turned their misfortune into a source of profit. A bird like a landrail, but smaller, flew from a thick clump of vegetation near them.

"Hallo, that is not a corn-crake, is it?" said Dick.

"No, but it is a water-crake, or water-rail rather, and I expect its nest is in that clump," said Frank, and his shoes and stockings were off in a moment, and he was wading to the place whence the bird had flown.

"Yes, here it is, and there are eight eggs in it, very like a landrail's, but much lighter in colour and a little smaller. I say, if we hadn't seen the bird fly away we should never have found the nest, it is so carefully hidden. I shall take four eggs. They are not sat upon, and she will lay some more until she makes up her full number, so it is not a robbery."

The water-rail is one of the shyest of water-birds. It creeps among the herbage like a rat, and is very difficult to put to flight. When it does fly, its legs hang down as if it had not strength to hold them up, and it flies but slowly, yet during the winter time it migrates long distances.

The boys spent but little time on the broad, for they were anxious to get further away from home; so, as there was a strong breeze from the west, they ran before it as far as Acle,where they had to lower their mast in order to pass under the old grey stone bridge.

Water-Rail.

Leaving the yacht moored by the Hermitage Staithe, they walked to Filby and Ormesby Broads, an immense straggling sheet of water with many arms about three miles from the river. They hired a boat, and rowed about for some time, seeing plenty of wild-fowl, but meeting with no adventure worth recording. The broad is connected with the river by a long dyke called by the euphonious name of Muck Fleet, but it is not navigable, being so filled with mud and weeds. The growing obstruction of this dyke is an illustration of the process which is going on all over the Broad district day by day. Formerly a much larger portion of it must have been water, but as the reeds grew they decayed, and the rotten matter formed soil. This process was repeated year after year and is going on now. The reeds extend each year and form fresh soil each winter, and so the parts which were always very shallow become filled up, and the extent of marsh increases; and then, as the extent of marsh increases, it is drained and becomes firm, and then is finally cultivated,and waving corn-fields take the place of what was once a lake, and then a marsh, and instead of pike and wild-fowl there are partridges and pheasants.

On the way back to Filby the boys took it into their heads to have a game of 'follow my leader.' Frank was chosen as leader, and he led them straight across-country, scorning roads and paths, and choosing the hardest leaps over dykes and fences. Across a meadow Frank saw a very stiff thorn fence on the other side of which was a stubble-field. Collecting all his strength, he made a rush at it, but failing to clear it, his foot caught near the top, and he fell headlong into the next field. Dick followed his leader with commendable imitation, and sprawled on the top of him; but Jimmy could only breast the hedge, and sat down on the spot whence he had taken his spring. Dick was up again in a moment, but Frank remained kneeling on the ground with something between his hands.

African Bush Quail.

"What is it, Frank?" said Dick.

"A bird. I fell upon it. It was on its nest, and I have smashed three of the eggs, but there are five left."

Jimmy joined them, and asked what kind of a bird it was. It was a bird of about eight inches in length, grey in colour, plump, and with a shape which reminded them of the guinea-fowl. They looked at the poor trembling bird, and at its eggs, and came to the conclusion that it was a quail, a supposition which turned out to be right. Quails, though rare generally, were very common that year in Norfolk and Suffolk, and many nests were found, two more by the boys themselves. The nest is simply a collection of dry grass in a hollow in the ground.

Morris says of the quail:—

"Quails migrate north and south in spring and autumn, and vast numbers are taken by bird-catchers. As many as one hundred thousand are said to have been taken in one day in the kingdom of Naples. Three thousand dozen are reported to have been purchased in one year by the London dealers alone. They migrate in flocks, and the males are said to precede the females. They are believed to travel at night. They arrive here at the end of April or beginning of May, and depart again early in September. Not being strong on the wing, yet obliged to cross the sea to seek a warmer climate in the winter, thousands are picked up by the shores on their arrival in an exhausted state; many are drowned on the passage, and some are frequently captured on board of vessels met within transitu."

I have seen them in poulterers' shops kept in large cages, until they are wanted for the table, and they seemed to be quite unconcerned at their captivity, feeding away busily.

Frank said,

"What shall we do with the bird? I've broken her wing, but I don't think she's much hurt anywhere else."

"Here's some thin twine," said Dick. "Let us tie the bone to a splint of wood with it, and the wing may heal."

They carried the suggestion out with great care, and the quail, on being allowed to go, ran away with a drooping wing, but otherwise little the worse.

"I suppose we must take all the eggs," said Frank, "for she will not come back to her nest now, as it is all wet with squashed egg."

"Those are not lapwings flying above us, are they?" said Dick.

"No, they are golden plovers. They are not half so pretty as the lapwings. They have no crest, and are much plainer in plumage, and they have more black on them. Look out for their nests in this marshy spot."

"Here is one," said Dick.

Nest of Golden Plover.

"No, that is only a lapwing's, and in a very clever place too; the nest is made, or rather the eggs are placed on the top of a mud-hill, so that when the water rises the eggs will be kept dry."

"Here is a golden plover's, then," said Jimmy, pointing to a depression in the ground, in which were four eggs of the usual plover type, about the same size as the lapwing's, but more blunt in outline, and lighter in ground colour.

"Yes, those are they. Take two of them."

It must not be supposed that I mention all the nests andeggs the boys found in their rambles. Space forbids me to notice more than those which are rare or unusual. For the nest of one rare or uncommon bird they found a dozen of the commoner sorts, for they were very quick observers.

The wind had fallen, and the water was as smooth as glass. While prowling about the margin, "seeking what they might devour," Dick stooped to pick a flower which grew by the water-side, and saw the head of a large eel protruding from the mud on the bank, about two or three feet below the surface. He called his companions' attention to it, and on looking more closely they saw at intervals the heads of several more, which poked two or three inches out of the mud. If the water had not been so still and clear, they would not have been able to see them.

"What are they in that peculiar position for?" said Dick.

"Oh, it is a habit of theirs. They are taking it easy, and watching for any little nice morsel to float by them. When the evening comes they will come out altogether. I will show you how to sniggle them."

"Do what?" said Dick.

"Wait and see, old man."

They went back to the Hermitage, and Frank borrowed a stocking-needle from a woman at the house. He next got some fishing-line from the yacht and whipped one end of it to the needle from the eye to the middle. He next got a long pea-stick from the garden, and dug up some lob-worms, and then went to the mud-bank where the eels were.

Frank baited his tackle by running the head of the needle quite up into the head of the worm, letting the point come out about the middle. Then he lightly stuck the point of the needle into the end of the stick, and with the stick in one hand and the loose line in the other, he went quietly to the side, and selecting an eel, he presented the worm to its nose. The eel opened its mouth and took the worm in. Frank gently pulled the stick away and slackened the line, and the eel swallowed the worm head first. When it had disappeared down the eel's throat, Frank struck, and the needle, of course, stuck across the eel's gullet. Frank kept a steady hold upon him, and drew him out of his fastness inch by inch, until he was clear of the mud, and then he lifted him out of the water. It was a fine eel of two pounds in weight.

"Why, what grand fun that is!" said Dick. "Let me try,"and so enthusiastically did he set to work, that in an hour's time he had got eight large eels.

They now went on board to make their fourth meal that day, it being then half-past four o'clock. Afterwards they all wrote their letters home.

The next morning about nine o'clock they hoisted sail, and started, intending to reach Yarmouth that day. A strong breeze, almost amounting to a gale, blew from the west, and they were obliged to take in reefs in both the main-sail and the mizen, and then they spun along at a very good rate, the water foaming at their bows and surging in their wake. Above them and to the eastward the sky was blue and without a cloud, but in the west a huge black cloud was slowly rising. Against its gloom, the sunlit marsh, the windmills, and the white sails of the yachts stood out brilliantly clear, and a number of gulls which were flying over the marsh shone out dazzlingly white against it.

"What bird is that? It is a hawk no doubt, but it looks so blue in this light," said Jimmy, pointing over the marsh to where a large hawk was flying in circles uttering screams, and every now and then swooping to the ground.

Frank got out his glass and took a long look at it.

"It must be a hen-harrier," he said. "I can see it quite clearly. It seems to be very angry with something on the ground. Run the yacht up in the wind, Jimmy, and let us watch it."

"There is another harrier flying to join it as swift as the wind. It is larger and browner, and must be the female," said Frank, describing their movements as he saw them through the glass.

Hen-Harrier.

The second comer swooped down to the ground and rose with some long struggling object in its talons which seemed to be a weasel or stoat. Frank then through his glass distinctly saw the weasel seize the hawk by the throat, and the hawk, screaming wildly, rose high into the air—"towering," as a sportsman would say—until it was almost a speck, and its mate accompanied it, circling round it, and also uttering savage screams. Then the hawk and weasel fell through the air, turning over and over, and came plump upon the marsh. The boys landed and went to the spot, while the other hawk slowly circled far out of sight. On reaching the spot theyfound the hawk dead, and the weasel still alive but stunned. It was soon despatched, and they examined the beautiful hawk which had fallen a victim to its bravery. The weasel's jaws were stained with egg-juice, and not far off they found the hen-harrier's nest which the weasel had been rifling whenthe hawk attacked it. The nest was built on the ground, and was something like a coot's nest, large and strong in structure. It contained four bluish eggs, two of which were broken.

Weasel.

"I tell you what, Frank," said Jimmy, "we must stuff the hawk and weasel, and mount them just as they appeared in the air. It will make a grand group. I am sorry for the hawk, but it is a lucky find for us and our museum nevertheless."

In the meantime they skinned the hawk and weasel, and simply stuffed their skins with cotton-wool and laid them by in the locker. It is not necessary to stuff birds in their natural attitude to preserve them for a cabinet. They may be loosely stuffed with cotton-wool and laid side by side in drawers and labelled, just like eggs, and if at any time afterwards it is desired to set them up in life-like positions, the skins can be softened by letting them lie for a few days in a damp place.

They sailed at a great rate down to Yarmouth, and brought up just outside a row of wherries which were moored to the quay.

To the Rescue.—A Long-tailed Tit's Nest.—A Shower of Feathers.

Whenthey had made all snug, they set out for a walk through the town, and as the quay-side was not so pleasant as the open country, they determined not to sleep on board the yacht this night, but to sleep at an hotel. They therefore went to one by the beach and engaged beds. They then ordered and ate an uncommonly good dinner, at the close of which the waiter intimated to them that he had never seen any young gentlemen before who had such good appetites. After a due amount of rest they set out for a stroll. Presently they met a boy with a nest in his hand, which was evidently that of a long-tailed tit.They watched the boy join a gang of other boys, and after some conversation they took a number of tiny white eggs out of the nest, and arranged them on the ground in a row.

"By Jove, they are going to play 'hookey smash' with them. What heathens!" said Frank. The boy who had brought the eggs now took a stick and made a shot at one of the eggs, and smash it went. Another boy took a stick and prepared to have his turn.

"I say, I can't stand this," said Frank. "Let us make a rush and rescue the eggs," and suiting the action to the word, he ran forward, and with a well-applied shove of his foot to the inviting target which a stooping boy presented to him, he sent him rolling into the gutter. Jimmy picked up the nest and eggs, and then the three found themselves like Horatius and his two companions when they kept the bridge against Lars Porsena and his host, "facing fearful odds" in the shape of a dozen yelling street-boys.

Frank was a big lad for his age, and he stood in such an excellent boxing position, his blue eyes gleaming with such a Berserker rage, and Jimmy and Dick backed him so manfully, that their opponents quailed, and dared not attack them save with foul language, of which they had a plentiful supply at command. Seeing that their enemies deemed discretion the better part of valour, our three heroes linked themselves arm in arm, and marched home with their heads very high in air, and with a conscious feeling of superiority.

"What are you laughing at, Dick?" said Frank.

"At the cool way in which you robbed those fellows of their eggs. You had no right to do so. Theywillwonder why you did it."

"Let them wonder. I was so savage at their spoiling those beautiful eggs in such a brutal manner. At the same time I acknowledge that it wasn't my business, no more than if it were their own ha'pence they were smashing, but all the same I feel that we have done a very meritorious action."

They now found themselves at the quay-side, and they stopped there some time, being much struck by the scene which presented itself to them as they gazed out over Breydon Water. The tide was flowing in rapidly, and Breydon was one vast lake, at the further end of which, five miles away, the rivers Waveney and Yare joined it, and, at the end near Yarmouth,the Bure, down which they had just sailed. The breeze had risen to a gale, and as it met the incoming tide it raised a sharp popply sea. The sun was setting red and splendid over the far end behind a mass of black fiery-edged cloud, through rents in which the brilliant light fell upon the tossing waste of waters, and tipped each wave-crest with crimson. Above the cloud the sky was of a delicate pale green, in which floated cloudlets or bars of gold, which were scarcely more ethereal-looking than the birds which breasted the gale with wavering flight. Out of the sunset light there came a gallant array of vessels making for the shelter of Yarmouth. Dark-sailed wherries with their peaks lowered and their sails half mast high, and yachts with every possible reef taken in, all dashing along at a great pace, notwithstanding the opposing tide, and each with a white lump of foam at its bows. The parallel rows of posts which marked the sailing course stood out gaunt and grim, like warders of the sunset gates, and the whole scene was wild and impressive. It so moved Dick, that when they got back to their hotel he sat down, and tried his hand at making some verses descriptive of it. They are not good enough to quote, but Frank and Jimmy both thought them very good, only they were not impartial critics.

As they were sitting in the coffee-room that evening, Jimmy said that he should like to see how many feathers the long-tailed tit's nest contained. It looked a regular hatful, and he wondered how the tiny bird could have had the patience to collect so many. So he drew a small table aside, and sat himself down at it with the nest before him, and then set to work to count the feathers, putting them in a pile at his right side as he did so. Dick joined him, and the two worked away for a long time at the monotonous task of counting. The feathers as they were piled up loosely on the table formed a big feather-heap.

Frank grew tired of watching them, and a wicked idea entered his head. The window near which they sat encountered the whole force of the wind. Frank lounged up to it, and, under cover of a question, undid the latch.

"How many are there?" he asked.

"We have counted 2,000, and there are about 300 more. We shall soon finish."

"Shall you, indeed," said Frank, as he opened the window.The wind rushed in, and catching the light feathers scattered them all over the room, which was full of people, some reading, some eating, and some enjoying a nightcap of toddy. The feathers stuck everywhere—on the food, in the glasses, sticking on hair and clothes, and tickling noses, and causing universal consternation.

Long-tailed Tit and Egg.

"Here's a pretty kettle of fish!" said Jimmy, looking up in dismay. "How could you, Frank?"

But Frank had vanished out of the window laughing incontinently, and Dick and Jimmy were left alone to bear the storm of expostulations and reproaches with which they were favoured by the company, who thought the whole affair was premeditated.

Yarmouth.—The "Rows."—A Stiff Breeze.—An Exciting Sail.—Sparrow-hawk's Nest.—A Nasty Fall.—Long-eared Owl.—Partridge.—Sandpiper.

Yarmouthis a queer old semi-Dutch town, and is often compared in shape to a gridiron, the bars of that article corresponding to the "Rows" which are such a peculiar feature of Yarmouth. These rows stretching across from the quay-side to the principal street are very narrow, yet contain the houses and shops of a great portion of the population. Many are only wide enough for foot passengers but along others, carts of a peculiar construction can pass. These carts are very long and narrow, and have only two wheels, and a stranger seeing them for the first time would wonder what they were for.

Below Breydon Water the river narrows very much, and flows past numerous fish-wharves and quays to the sea. The tide rises up this narrow neck with great force, and were it not for the safety-valve which is afforded by the vast expanse of Breydon Water, where the tide can expand and waste its force, it would rush on and flood the low-lying marshes for miles up the river.

The boys had resolved to start on their voyage up Breydon Water at ten o'clock in the morning, when the tide would be making and would help them on their way, but when they had staggered down to their boat in the teeth of a fierce north-wester, and saw Breydon white with foam, torn off short snappy waves caused by the meeting of wind and tide, they were rather dismayed, and held a council of war as to what should be done. Not a sail could be seen on the wide expanse of Breydon Water. The sky was of a hard and pitiless blue, and clearly foretold a continuance of the gale.

"Shall we venture or not?" said Frank.

"What do you feel inclined to do yourself?" asked Jimmy.

"Well, I don't think there is any great risk. We will take every reef in, and the tide will be in our favour. It will be a good trial for the yacht too. If we can get to the top of Breydon against this gale we shall have every reason to be satisfied with her. I am game to try."

"So am I," said Jimmy.

"Then if you are, I am," said Dick.

"That's right. Then do you make all snug on board, while I run back to the town. I have something to buy," and off he went.

In a short time he returned with a small life-belt in his hand.

"Here, this is for you, Dick. Jimmy and I swim so well that there is no danger for us, but you cannot swim so very far yet, so you had better wear this in case of a capsize, though I don't expect one. Now, are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Then, Jimmy, do you take the main-sheet, and you, Dick, take the mizen-sheet, and I will cast off."

The sails were hoisted, and everything made taut and trim. Frank undid the moorings, and jumped on board, seizing the tiller just as the yacht's head turned from the shore, and she heeled over before the wind. No sooner was she free from the quay than she seemed to be at the opposite side of the river, at such a pace did the wind impel her. Although her raft-like frame gave her so much stability, yet she heeled over until her deck to leeward was in the water. She came back on the opposite tack with the speed of a racehorse. Frank said,—

"I say, she fairly seems to run away from us. Quick, loose the sheet, Jimmy! Here's a squall!" and the yacht ran up into the wind, and her sails fluttered as Frank kept her so until the gust had passed. They were soon out in the open water of Breydon, and were able to take longer tacks. This gave them some ease, but they found that theSwanwas not a "dry" boat. Her lowness and flat shape caused her to "ship" the short curling seas. They, of course, passed over her deck harmlessly, but nevertheless they made her wet and uncomfortable. As long, however, as she was safe and sailed well, the boys did not mind this at all, and they stuck to their work bravely, handling their yacht with great skill and courage.

Large portions of Breydon are dry at low tide, and are there called "muds," or "flats." On these muds flocks of sea-fowl congregate.

"These are capital places in the winter for wild-fowl shooting," said Frank, "we must have a day's sport here in the next hard frost. Bell will come with us, and show us some good fun, I am sure."

"My father has a big swivel duck-gun somewhere about. If that will be of any use I will look it up," said Dick.

"Of course it will be of use, old man. Just the thing we want. Haul in her sheet, Jimmy. We can sail a point nearer to the wind, if we choose. I say, this is fine! What muffs we were to think that there was any danger, or that the yacht could not do it. See how well she behaves! But there, I am putting her too full, and she was very nearly capsized. The man at the wheel must not speak, so don't talk to me."

"This may be fine fun for you, Frank, but my hands have nearly all the skin taken off them by the rope. It is jolly hard work holding on to this, I can tell you," said Jimmy, who, indeed, had got his work cut out for him.

"Same here," said Dick; "I don't care how soon it is over, for my hands are awfully flayed. I wish we could make the sheet fast."

"Ah, you must not do that, or we shall be upset at the next gust," said Frank.

After an hour and a half of very exciting sailing, they had sailed the five miles of Breydon Water, and ran into the smoother current of the Waveney. Here, also, they got the wind more aslant, and skimmed along at a great pace with very little labour. In this way, they sailed some fifteen miles, and at length came to anchor in a sheltered spot under a wood-crowned bank not far from Beccles. After making all snug and eating their dinner, the most natural thing to do was to explore the wood near them. They left the yacht, and crossing a meadow they entered the wood. It was a thick fir-plantation and promised well for nests.

"What is that one?" said Jimmy, pointing to a nest in a tall fir-tree, "is it a crow's, or an old wood-pigeon's, or a hawk's? Who will go up and see?"

"I will," said Frank, and up he went hand over hand among the thick boughs. As he neared the top, he was obliged toproceed more cautiously, for the branches were thin, and the tree swayed in the wind. All doubts as to the kind of nest were speedily dissolved, for with a cry of rage, a sparrow-hawk came dashing up, and flew in circles around the tree, screaming angrily, and making fierce attacks at the invader of its home. Frank, nothing daunted, continued his upward way, and soon was able to see into the nest.

"There are four young ones," he cried.

Sparrow-hawk.

"What a pity," said Jimmy. "If they had only been eggs! Look sharp and come down, Frank, you are swinging about so much that it does not seem safe up there."

But Frank answered nothing, and remained on his perch.

"What is the matter, Frank?"

"I am thinking about something."

"A tree-top is a funny place to think. Here is the other hawk coming to pay you a visit, and it is the female. She will be more savage than the other, and may attack you."

"No fear," said Frank, but at that moment both hawks madea sudden onslaught upon him, and the female struck him so savagely, that she tore a big gash in his cheek. He was so startled at this unexpected and hostile measure that he lost his hold and fell. When Dick and Jimmy saw their leader crashing through the branches, and turning over and over as he fell, they could not repress a shriek, and closed their eyes to shut out the horrible accident that must happen. They waited in fearful suspense for the expected thud, but not hearing it, they ventured to look up again, and saw Frank lying on a thickly spreading branch not far below the nest. He was lying quite still, but clutching hold of the boughs with his hands. Both Dick and Jimmy flew to the tree, and commenced to climb it. With a speed that seemed wonderful to them afterwards they reached Frank.

"Are you hurt, old man?"

"Not at all, only all the wind is knocked out of me. I shall be all right in a minute. I say, if my mater saw that tumble, she would not let me go out alone any more, would she? That hawk was a plucky bird. I am going up to the nest again."

"What for? I should think you have had enough of hawks' nests for a long time."

"Yes, but I want to take two of the young ones. Two of them are much larger than the others, so they must be females. Now I'll tell you what struck me before the bird knocked me off my perch. Suppose we take these young hawks, and train them up in the way they should go—that is, let us use them for hawking."

"It is a good idea and no mistake—but can we do that?"

"Easily," answered Frank, gathering himself together, and resuming his ascent.

"What a cool fellow he is," said Dick to Jimmy. "He does not seem to know what danger is."

"He does not choose to show it, if he does. But let us go up and help him with the hawks."

The young hawks were fully fledged and nearly ready to fly. They were fierce enough now, but Frank said he would undertake to tame them, and fit them for hawking before the winter, if the other boys would help him. The idea of reviving that famous old sport was a very fascinating one, and they determined to do their best to carry it out, with what result will afterwards be seen. In the meantime it was a difficult matterto dispose of the birds. They tied strings to their legs, and kept them in the cabin, feeding them, and taking as much care of them as if they were babies, until they came to Norwich, when they sent them to Bell, who took care of them until their return.

After taking the hawks to the boat, the boys went back to the wood and separated, so that they might cover more ground. Suddenly peals of laughter were heard coming from the corner of the wood. Frank, pushing aside the branches to get a clearer view, was surprised to see Dick staring at a thick Scotch fir, holding his sides, and laughing until the tears ran down his cheeks. Frank hastened up to him to see where the fun was. Dick could only point, for he was too far gone for speech. Frank looked in the direction he pointed, and immediately burst into a fit of laughter far more uproarious than Dick's. Jimmy, running up as fast as he could, saw both his friends laughing and capering like mad.

"What on earth is the matter? Have you both gone crazy?" They pointed to the Scotch fir. Jimmy looked, and immediately fell a roaring with laughter as hard as the others.

Long-Eared Owl.

This is the explanation. On a horizontal bough of the tree were seated six young long eared owls. They were fully fledged, but unable to fly, and according to their custom they had left their nest and were perched together on this branch waiting for their parents to feed them. They looked most extremely absurd and ridiculous as they sat, each on one foot swaying to and fro after their manner on the bough, and gravely winking their large brown eyes at the intruders. It is impossible to give any idea of the comicality of the scene any more than it is possible to give a true description in words of the grotesque gestures of a clown. Of this owl Morris says,—

"It is readily tamed, and affords much amusement by the many grotesque attitudes it assumes, to which its ears and eyes give piquancy. It may often be detected that a small orifice isleft through which it is peeping when its eyes would seem to be shut, and it has the singular faculty of being able to close one eye while the other is not shut, so that it may appear wide awake on one side while apparently asleep on the other, or if asleep, may be so literally with one eye open. The ears are raised by excitement; at other times they are depressed."

Common Partridge.

On its head this owl has two tufts of feathers which look like donkey's ears, and give it its name. It is common in many parts of England, and frequents thick fir-woods, where it builds in old nests of crows and hawks, or even squirrels, which it lines with wool, and in which it lays two or three round white eggs.

Jimmy sadly wanted to take one of the young ones home, but the hawks were as much as they could manage in the yacht, and after all, the owl would be of no use to them, and it mightdie, so they reluctantly left the birds on their perch to snore in peace.

Egg of CommonPartridge.

"What is that partridge calling for?" said Frank.

"I can't think," answered Jimmy. "It seems to come from the top of that haystack, but that is a very unlikely place for a partridge in the breeding season."

"I will go up and see," said Dick, "if you will give me a back." They soon lifted him up, and as they did so, a French or red-legged partridge flew off.

"Here is her nest with ten eggs in it," cried Dick, "what an extraordinary spot for a nest." And so it was, but not altogether singular, for the partridge has been known to build in a hollow tree, and in other unlikely situations.

Leaving the wood, they proceeded up a small stream which empties itself into the Waveney. As they advanced, a sandpiper took short flights in front of them. It was presently joined by another, and the two seemed so uneasy, that the boys concluded that their nest could not be far off. They therefore set to work to examine every likely spot with great care. Dick was the one who found it, in fact he very nearly trod upon it. Four cream-coloured eggs with brown spots, very much pointed and very large for the size of the bird, lay in a hollow in a gravelly bank, upon a few pieces of dry grass and leaves, the birds' apology for a nest. The sandpipers flew over head, uttering their cry of "weet, weet, weet," with great anxiety, and they looked so pretty, that the boys felt sorry for them, and only took two of their eggs.

The summer snipe, as this bird is also called, is well known to everyone who wanders by the side of streams or lakes. Its white stomach contrasts so prettily with its dusky back, and it walks so merrily about the water-edge, trotting over the lily leaves, and taking short flights before the angler, that it is one of my favourite birds, the kingfisher and the water-ouzel being the other two.

Jimmy had gone off up a small ravine thickly covered with underwood, in search of a fern or two which he expected to find there. He had not been gone long before they heard himgive a loud shout, and turning towards the spot, they saw a woodcock float out of a covert with that owl-like flight which it sometimes affects.

"Here is its nest," shouted Jimmy.

This news was sufficient to make the boys rush at once to the place where Jimmy stood.

On the ground under a holly-bush was the nest, with four eggs in it, of a dirty yellowish white, spotted with pale brown.

Common Sandpiper.

"Well," said Frank, "I think we have had an uncommonly good day."

"So do I," replied Jimmy, "and I feel uncommonly hungry. Don't you?"

"It seems to me that we do nothing but eat," observed Dick.

"I should like to go to bed soon. I am tired, and my ribs ache from my tumble," said Frank.

A Grizzly Bear.—Gossamers.—Strike only on the Box.

AfterFrank's cuts and bruises were plastered up, the boys turned into their berths and were soon fast asleep. Now the hawks had been placed in a corner at the foot of Jimmy's berth, and crouched together quiet and sullen. The foot of Jimmy's bed was only about six inches from them, and as he turned and twisted in his sleep, he pushed his foot out of the bottom of the bed, exposing his toes within tempting reach of the young hawks' talons. The natural consequence followed. One of the birds seeing this capital chance of avenging himself on his enemies, seized fast hold of Jimmy's big toe with his sharp beak. Jimmy jumped up with a loud yell, and hitting his forehead against the roof of the cabin fell down again on the floor. Frank, hearing a noise, started up not more than half awake, and fell out of his hammock on to the top of Jimmy, whom he seized by the throat. Dick awoke from a dream of Arctic exploration, and cried out,—

"Is that a grizzly bear?"

"Grizzly bear!" said Jimmy, whom Frank had released. "Something ten times worse than a bear has seized my toe and bitten it off, or nearly so, and then I hit my head against the roof, and Frank half choked me. I think it is a great deal too bad."

"You must have been dreaming, Jimmy," said Frank; "there is nothing here that could bite your toe."

"But I can feel that it is bleeding!" answered Jimmy, in a very injured tone of voice.

At that moment a noise in the corner of his berth attracted their attention.

"Oh, it must have been the hawks!" said Dick, and he and Frank went off into fits of laughter, which only grew more boisterous as Jimmy proceeded to light a candle, and bind histoe up with a piece of sticking-plaster, grumbling all the time, and casting savage glances at the offending birds.

The light was put out, and they once more went to bed, Jimmy taking care to tuck his feet well under him. Every now and then a smothered burst of laughter from the other berths told him that his friends were still enjoying the joke, and then, as his toe began to pain him less, his sense of the ludicrous overcame his sense of outraged dignity, and just as Dick and Frank were dropping off to sleep, they were again startled by a peal of laughter from Jimmy.

"Oh dear!" said Frank, "you will be the death of us, Jimmy. Have you only now discovered the joke?"

"Oh, don't make me laugh any more. My sides are aching so," said Dick.

Once more composed, they went to sleep, and awoke early in the morning to find that the gale had spent itself, and that a soft air from the south blew warmly over the land. The sun shone his brightest, and the birds sang their merriest. They had a bathe in the clear river water, and dressed leisurely on the top of their cabin, while the sun, which had not risen very long, threw their shadows, gigantic in size, over the green meadows, which were covered with silvery gossamers—and then they were witnesses of a curious phenomenon. Their shadows had halos of light around them, extending about eighteen inches from each figure, all around it. The strong light from behind them, shining on the wet and gleaming gossamers, was no doubt the cause of this singular appearance. The same sight has been seen when the grass was wet with dew.

"The fields are quite silvery with the gossamer," said Dick. "Is it not pretty!"

"Yes, what a number of spiders there must be to cause such an appearance," answered Frank. "It always puzzles me how those spiders move about—and how is it that on some mornings they appear in such immense quantities, while on the next morning, perhaps, not one will be seen?"

"I think they are always there," replied Dick, "but they are only visible when the dew is falling heavily, and wetting them so that they become visible. In the clear air, too, the sun will dry them so that we shall not be able to see them; but they will be there all the same. Let us gather a bunch of rushes with a lot of them on and examine them."

He did so, and they saw great numbers of tiny spiders gliding about their tiny webs. By and by, as they watched them, the little spiders shot out long silvery threads, which floated out to leeward, and then the spiders let go their hold and launched themselves into the air, and were borne away by the faint south wind.

"Oh, so that is the secret of their wandering, is it? Don't you wish you could send a long floating thread from your stomach, Jimmy, and sail away over the marshes? It would be as good as having wings."

"Don't be so absurd, Frank."

A wherry was being pushed up the stream by its two stalwart boatmen, by the process known in Norfolk as quanting. The men placed their long poles or quants into the river at the bow of the wherry, and, placing their shoulders against them, walked to the stern, propelling the boat along with their feet. By this laborious method, when the wind fails them, do the wherrymen work their craft to their destination. As they passed the yacht, one of them cried out—

"We have got no matches, guv'nor. Can you give us some?"

"Certainly," replied Frank; and diving into the cabin, he returned with a handful. These he handed to the wherryman, who thanked him and passed on. The man stopped quanting and tried to strike a match by rubbing it on the sole of his shoe. It failed to ignite, and he threw it down. Another met with the same fate, and another also. Then he tried striking them on wood, then on iron, then on his rough jacket, but all to no purpose, and they could see him trying one after another, and throwing them down with every symptom of disgust.

"Why, Frank, those matches strike only on the box," said Dick.

"I know that," replied Frank, laughing quietly.

"Oh, that's too bad. Fancy the fellow's disgust!"

They sailed up to the pretty little town of Beccles, where they took in provisions, and Frank bought some more sticking-plaster in case of any further accident. They then had a good dinner at the principal inn, and afterwards called upon a friend, who took them over the large printing-works near the town, where many books published in London are printed. Theybegan with the compositors' room, where, with marvellous rapidity, the workmen were selecting the letters from their respective boxes in the case of type, and arranging them in their proper order. The extraordinary illegibility of some of the MSS. from which the compositors were reading with apparent ease astonished our boys, who could make nothing of them. They then paid a visit to the reader, who has the wearisome and eye-tiring task of reading over and correcting the proofs. When the proofs have been corrected and the "revise" submitted to the author, and his corrections made, the process of stereotyping comes in. The sheet of type is covered with a layer of plaster-of-paris, which takes a perfect impression of the words on the sheet of type. From this plaster-of-paris cast another cast is taken in metal, and this forms the stereotype plate from which the book is printed. The type, which is very valuable, can then be distributed to its proper places, and used again. The stereotype plates are always kept stored in stacks, like bottles in a wine-bin.

Jimmy, being of a mechanical turn of mind, was very much interested in the stereotyping process, and more particularly in the account they received of the way in which many daily papers are printed. The impression is in the first instance taken by means of a soft wet paper of sufficient thickness. This is dried, and the molten metal is poured upon it, and takes a perfect impression, without in any way spoiling the paper mould, or "matrix," which can be used again, while a plaster one cannot. Jimmy asked to be shown some wooden blocks from which wood engravings are printed, and the boys examined them curiously.

They received an invitation to spend the evening at their friend's house, and after returning to the boat to feed the hawks with some "lights" bought at a butcher's shop, they had a very pleasant evening, and slept that night on shore.

Oulton Broad.—Lateeners.—Lowestoft.—Ringed-Plover's Nest.—Oyster-catcher.—Shore Fishing.—A Perilous Sail.

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