Common Heron.
Common Heron.
Presently the company moved forwards, as a speck on the distant horizon told of the probable approach of their quarry. As it came nearer it proved to be a heron, and its flight was directed straight towards them, and at no great distance from the ground. When the advancing bird came within one hundred yards of the group, it seemed to think there might be some danger awaiting it, and it swerved aside continuing its course so as to pass them on one side. Two of the hawks were unhooded, and the noble birds, catching sight of their quarry, launched into the air in pursuit of it. When the heron saw the hawks it uttered a cry, and immediately rose in the air and soared to a great height. The meaning of thiswas apparent when the hawks, instead of attacking it on a level with themselves, circled up with great swiftness, and tried to rise above the heron, so that they might swoop down upon it. The heron rose with outstretched neck, and wings which moved with great swiftness, in spite of their size; but the hawks still soared and soared in wide circles, and the party below rode and ran keeping as nearly as possible under the birds. The hawks had now risen above the heron, but still they went on circling higher and higher, until they were mere specks in the sky. Then they suddenly grew large as they swooped down, and the heron gave another cry, and half turned on his back as they struck him almost simultaneously, and hawks and heron fluttered down a struggling mass to the ground. The hawks were taken off and hooded, and after a short interval another heron came in sight, and the other two hawks were flown at it.
When the sport was over, Frank got hold of one of the warreners who had come to see it and asked him if he had ever seen any great bustards about the warren, or the adjacent fens.
"Oh, ay, sir, when I was a lad many and many a one have I seen, but now I have not seen one for more than three years. They be almost killed out of the land now. One is to be seen every two or three years, but it is always shot or trapped."
"What sort of a bird is a great bustard?" asked Dick.
"It is a game bird as large as a full-sized turkey, and far better eating. There used to be droves of them on the fens and the warrens, but they were shot and trapped right and left. I mind when I was a boy I have seen as many as twenty together on a warren, and then the warreners used to set a battery of guns, and have a long string fastened to all the triggers. Maybe the string was half a mile long, and then the men at work on the warrens, or the marshes, had orders to pull the string when they saw the bustards within reach of the guns. They used to stalk them by walking on the off-side of a horse, and, keeping it between them and the bustards, walk round and round until they came within shot."
The warrener was a very intelligent man, and he told them much about the habits of this noble bird, which is now nearly extinct in England.
"Have you ever found its nest?" asked Jimmy.
"Yes, when I was a lad I found two or three. The eggs were good eating, so we took them, and as they were big eggs and laid on the ground, it was easy enough to find their nests if you knew where to look."
"I suppose you haven't got any of their eggs now?" said Frank.
"No, sir, I haven't; but I have a notion that two or three years ago I saw two or three of their eggs in a cottage somewhere over yonder."
Great Bustard.
Great Bustard.
He pointed to the western sky, but to the boys' eyes no cottages were visible; and upon their asking him for further information, he told them that beyond a ridge of trees which crested a warren were some half-dozen cottages, and he thought it was in one of those that he had seen bustards' eggs, but he was not at all sure.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked Dick, pointing to the mouth of a rabbit-hole which was barred in with sticks like a cage. Inside the sticks were the feathers and part of the skeleton of a stock-dove.
The warrener replied,—
"The doves breed in the rabbit-holes, and we warreners keep a 'dowe' dog, which will tell us at once what holes have nests in them; and then, when the young ones are almost ready to fly, we fasten them in the burrow with sticks, just like that, and the old ones feed the young ones through the bars, and when the young ones are fit to eat we kill them. I suppose the man who fastened that burrow in forgot where it was, or the young one died before it was worth eating."
Doves.
Doves.
The boys now had to go back with their host, who, by the way, made them so comfortable that they forgave him for shooting their hawk.
The next day found the boys approaching the cottages where the warrener told them the bustards' eggs might be found.
"Now," said Frank, as they stopped under the lee of thewood, "let us have a consultation. How had we better go to work? If we show them that we have come specially for the eggs they will ask too great a price for them. I vote we go and ask for a drink of water, and then praise the children, if any, and so get into conversation; and then ask in an incidental way about the bustards."
This seemed the proper way of going to work, so they appointed Frank spokesman, and then marched up to the nearest cottage. A woman opened the door to them, and peeping in, they saw behind her half-a-dozen children, all young.
"Can you give us a drink of water, ma'am?" said Frank, in his politest tone.
"Oh yes, sir," answered the woman with a curtsey. "Won't you step indoors. But wouldn't you like a cup of milk better than water?"
"Thank you, very much," replied Frank. "But what nice little children you have got," and he patted one on the head.
"Lovely," said Jimmy enthusiastically, and picking out the cleanest he kissed it.
"Well, sir," answered the woman with a smile, "they be as healthy as most, and as fine I dare say, but they are a great deal of trouble."
"Ah, I have no doubt they are," replied Frank sympathizingly; and as he spoke his eyes were wandering about, looking at the ornaments on the chimney-piece to see if any eggs were there; but nothing of the kind was to be seen.
"This is a fine open country, ma'am."
"It is that, sir," she said.
"And plenty of rabbits and plovers about."
"There are that, sir."
"Have you ever seen any bustards about?"
"No, I have heard tell of them, but it was before my time."
"And I suppose you have never seen any nests or eggs?"
"No, sir, never; but my little boy has some throstle's eggs, if so be as you would like to have them."
"No, thank you," said Frank; and thanking her for the milk, and bestowing a small coin on one of the children, the boys made their exit.
"It is your turn to do the next kissing, Dick," said Jimmy.
"All right," replied Dick cheerfully.
The cottages lay at some little distance apart, and they visited them all in turn, but with the like ill success. Then, as they were thinking of giving it up as a bad job, they espied another small cottage in a little hollow, by a well.
"Let us try this, for the last one," said Frank.
"Very well," said Jimmy "but pray, don't ask for any more to drink. I have the best intentions in the world, but I really cannot find room for any more."
Beside the cottage was a silvery-haired old man, mending a broken paling. Frank went straight at it this time.
"Good morning."
"Good morning, sir," replied the man, touching his hat.
"Have you ever seen any bustards' eggs?"
"Yes, sir, I have two in the house. Would you like to see them?"
"We should."
"Then step in, sirs. I can give 'ee a glass of good nettle beer."
Jimmy groaned inwardly at the mention of the beer, but the sight of the eggs upheld him.
"Here they be, sir," said the old man, taking down two brown eggs with rusty spots on them, off the chimney-piece. "I took them myself out of the nest in yon fen when I was a lad."
"Will you sell them?"
"Ay, sure. It be a wonder how they come not to be broken, for I have taken no particular heed of them."
"What will you take for them?"
"What you likes to give, sir."
"I would rather you would fix your own price."
"Well, then, if you give me a shilling, I shall be fain."
"No, no, they are worth more than a shilling. We cannot afford to give you what you would get in London for them, and it is only fair to tell you so, but we will give you half-a-crown apiece for them."
"I shall be very glad to have that much for them, sir, if you think they are worth it to you."
So the bargain was concluded, and the boys became the happy possessors of these rare eggs.
I have just been reading, in theFielda very interestingaccount of the appearance of a great bustard in Norfolk. A gentleman there was told by one of his men that he had seen a "wonderful cur'us bird like a pelican," in a wild part of the fen. The gentleman at once went to look at it, and being a naturalist, he was much delighted to find that it was a bustard, and observation through a telescope told him that it was a cock bird. He gave strict orders that it was not to be shot, and that any prowling gunner found on his land was to be consigned without ceremony to the bottom of the nearest dyke. Then he sent for well-known naturalists from Cambridge and elsewhere, to come and watch the motions of the bird. It was feeding in a lonely part of the fen, in a patch of cole seed, and, each man being armed with a telescope of some sort or other, they had good views of it, both flying and walking. The news soon spread among the naturalists of the county, and one of them, who had some tame bustards in confinement, generously offered to give one of them to be let loose to pair with the wild cock. A female bustard was accordingly turned out into the fen as near to the wild bird as they dared to venture without frightening him away, and after a short time, they had the pleasure of seeing the two walking about together. In a day or two more the hen was found dead in a dyke. Her wings having been clipped she could not fly far enough. Another female was procured, but while seeking for an opportunity of turning it out where the wild one could see it, the wild one flew away. It was heard of afterwards in a different part of the county, and it does not appear yet to have been killed, and the landowners have given orders that it shall not be destroyed. I am looking forward with interest for further accounts of it.
Water-hen Swallowed by Pike.—Casting Net.—Trapping Water-hen for Bait.—A Monster Pike.
Frankand Jimmy were punting through one of the reedy pools adjoining the broad, shooting wild-fowl, and had not been very successful, so they were disposed to shoot coots and water-hens, as well as ducks. They saw a water-hen swimming across a small pool into which they had just pushed their way, and Jimmy raised his gun to fire at it, but before he could pull the trigger there was an immense splash and swirl in the water, and the water-hen disappeared down the jaws of an immense pike. The boys stared in amazement.
"That fellow must have been forty pounds in weight at the least," said Frank, as soon as he had recovered himself.
"Let us row home at once and get our tackle, and fish for him."
They rowed quickly back, and upon reaching the boat-house they found that Dick was there, and had just put the finishing touch to a casting net which they had been occupied in making for some time.
"Bravo! that is capital!" said Frank. "We can now catch some bait with it."
Before casting the net into the water they practised some time with it, for it is very difficult to throw a casting-net properly. After a little practice the boys were able to throw the net so that it described something like a circle on the ground, and then they took it to the shallow parts of the broad, and in a dozen throws they obtained a quantity of small roach and bream, as well as some large ones. Putting some of the roach into a bait-can, they rowed to the pool where the big pike lay, and first of all tried him with a live bait. But the float was undisturbed, save by the movements of the bait. Then they tried trolling with a dead gorge-bait, then spinning, and then a spoon, but with the like ill success.
"I tell you what," said Frank, at length, "a big fish like that requires something out of the common to induce him to bite. Let us put a big bream on, and try and tempt him by size." So they put a bream a pound and a half in weight on the gorge-hook, and worked the heavy bait up and down every part of the pool, but still without success, and the autumn night came on and put a stop to their fishing.
"We must catch him somehow," said Frank.
"Let us set trimmers for him," suggested Jimmy in despair.
"No, no; we will catch him by fair means if we can."
The big pike, the biggest which they had ever seen, occupied their thoughts all that evening. As Frank was dressing the next morning a happy thought occurred to him, and when he met his friends after breakfast he said,—
"I have got an idea how we may catch that pike. You remember how he took the water-hen under? He decidedly prefers flesh to fish. What do you say to catching a water-hen and baiting our hook with it?"
"The very thing," said Jimmy.
"But how are we to catch the water-hen?" asked Dick.
"I don't quite know. We must get it alive, you see."
They talked it over, but could not hit upon any plan of capturing one alive, so at luncheon-time they went to Bell, and asked him if he could help them.
"Well, sirs, the water-hens come to my back garden to feed with the hens and sparrows. If you could lay some sort of a trap for them like a riddle-trap for sparrows it would be an easy matter to entice one into it."
"The very thing," said Jimmy. "We will put the casting-net round a wooden hoop and prop it up on a stick, and put bread-crumbs under it."
So the casting-net was called into requisition, and a trap was constructed, and set in Bell's back yard, which was close to a dyke leading to the broad. The boys hid themselves in an outhouse, having a long string fastened to the stick which supported the net at an angle of forty degrees. First the hens came under it and then the sparrows, and the two began to eat up all the bread put there. At last a water-hen was seen swimming across the dyke, and with slow and cautious steps creeping up the bank towards the net. Frank took the end of the string in his hand, and peeped cautiously through a chink in the doorwhile the others looked through a little window. The water-hen fed for some time on the outskirts of the throng of hens and sparrows, and at last ventured within the circle of the net.
"Now," said Dick.
"No, wait until it is further under," said Jimmy.
Frank waited until the bird was fairly under the net, and then pulled the string. The trap descended upon three hens, half-a-dozen sparrows, and the water-hen.
"Hurrah!" cried the boys, rushing out. It was a matter of some difficulty to secure the bird they wanted from among the struggling mass of hens and sparrows, but they did so at last without hurting any of the others, and at once pinioned it by cutting off its wing feathers.
The next morning as soon as it was light they rowed to the place where the big pike lay. Everything was very still and quiet, and shrouded in a light grey mist, as they pushed their way along a narrow channel to the pool. They had brought with them their strongest rod and their stoutest line, and they carefully tried every knot and fastening of their tackle before commencing to fish. The next most important thing was to bait the water-hen or arm her with hooks properly. This was done by tying a number of hooks lightly to her with thread, and ruffling the feathers so as to conceal them.
"Poor thing," said Dick, as Frank took up the rod and swung her into the pool.
By keeping a slight pull on the line the bird was induced to turn in the opposite direction, and to swim towards the middle of the pool.
"Another minute or two will show if our plan is successful," said Frank, "and if not, the bird shall be let loose."
"I don't feel much faith in it now," said Jimmy.
When the bird reached the centre of the pool she dived.
"Oh dear, I did not expect that," said Frank. "What shall we do now?"
"She must come up again presently. The pool is twelve feet deep, and she cannot cling to the bottom."
"I felt her give such a pull just now. She is struggling hard to escape," said Frank, who was still letting out line.
Two or three minutes passed away, and still the bird did not make her appearance.
"Pull in the line a bit, Frank."
Frank did so, and said,—
"She must be clinging to the bottom. I cannot move her," and he pulled a little harder.
"I say," he cried, "I felt such a sharp tug. I do believe the big pike has got hold of her."
"Nonsense!" said the others.
"But it isn't nonsense," said Frank, and he held the rod bent so that they could see the top twitching violently.
"It is the pike!" Frank exclaimed excitedly, and he immediately let the line run loose, so that the pike might have room to gorge his prey.
"He must have seized the water-hen as she dived," said Dick.
"Yes, and won't we give him plenty of time to gorge. I don't want to miss him now we have got such a chance," said Frank.
And in spite of their impatience they gave the pike half-an-hour to swallow the bird, and then, at the end of that time, there were sundry twitchings of the point of the rod, and the line was taken out by jerks of a foot or two at a time.
"He is moving about," said Jimmy. "It is time to strike."
Frank raised his rod amid a hush of expectation. As the line tightened he struck lightly, and immediately the rod bent double with a mighty rush from the pike as he went straight across the little pool, which was about thirty yards in diameter. After this first rush the pike began to swim slowly about, keeping deep down and never showing himself. Round and round and across the pool he swam, now resting for a few minutes like a log, and from a twitching of the line apparently giving angry shakes of his head. Frank kept a steady, even strain upon him, and as the space was so circumscribed there was no danger of a breakage by any sudden rush.
This sort of thing went on for half-an-hour, the line slowly cutting through the still, dark water; and Jimmy and Dick urged Frank to pull harder, and make the fish show himself. But Frank was too wise to give way, and he still kept on in a steady, cautious fashion.
"If we go on much longer we shall be late for Mr. Meredith," said Dick.
"Never mind," replied Frank, "he will forgive us on such an occasion as this."
"Here he comes," shouted Frank, as he wound in his line.The pike came rolling up to the surface a few yards from the boat, and they caught sight of him. His proportions were gigantic, and his fierce eyes glared savagely at them. He gave a flounder on the top of the water, then sank down again into the depths.
"What a monster!"
In a few minutes the pike came up again, and this time more on his side, and plainly much exhausted. Three times more did he thus rise and sink again, and each time he seemed more helpless. The fourth time he remained on the surface lying on his side. Dick got hold of the gaff and held it in the water with outstretched arm, while Frank slowly drew the conquered giant towards it. Dick put the gaff under him and sharply drove it into his side, and then Jimmy and he uniting their forces, hauled the pike into the punt, almost upsetting it in their eagerness, and then threw themselves on the fish to prevent it flopping out again.
They rowed home in great triumph, and on weighing the pike it was found to be 34-1/4 lbs. in weight, and the largest which had been caught in Hickling Broad for many years. The time it took to land it from the time it was struck was fifty-five minutes.
Fishing on Stilts.—A Capsize.—Wild-fowl-Shooting.—A Flare-up.
Decemberwas ushered in with a week of storm and wet, and as the boys were shut out from outdoor pursuits they had more leisure for indoor studies; and one day a bright idea occurred to Jimmy, by the carrying out of which he said he could fish the broad without the trouble of rowing a boat. So on a Saturday afternoon, when the clouds had broken, and the rain ceased, and the still water reflected the pale blue of the December sky, Frank and Dick sat at the boat-house window watching Jimmy put his plan into execution.
He had turned a couple of leaping-poles into stilts. His feet rested upon foot-rests, but were not fastened to them,so that if he fell into the water his feet would be free and he could keep himself right-end uppermost; but the crutches of the stilts which came up under his arms were lightly tied around his shoulders, to leave his arms at liberty to use a rod. And now, having been fairly started by the aid of his friends, he was stalking along like a huge heron in about five feet of water, and was spinning for pike, casting his bait to right and left of him and oftentimes behind him,—for his movements were rather uncertain and erratic; and as making a cast disturbed his equilibrium, he was obliged to execute a sort of waltz-step to recover himself. Frank and Dick were in ecstasies of laughter at his involuntary antics.
"He will never catch any fish in that way," observed Dick.
In a little while, however, they saw his rod bend double, and it was evident that a good-sized pike had seized his bait. Then Jimmy made a stumble, and a violent effort to recover himself, and in so doing turned his back to the pike, which resented the insult by making a savage rush, pulling Jimmy backwards.
There was a violent sort of war-dance on Jimmy's part, during which one of the stilts seemed to be pointing upwards, and then Jimmy, with a last wild flourish of a stilt in the air, descended from his lofty height and disappeared beneath the waters of the broad.
Frank and Dick hastened, as fast as their laughter would allow them, to the punt, and rowed to meet Jimmy, who was half wading half swimming towards them, the two long stilts trailing behind him from his shoulders, and his rod following Mr. Pike on a different course.
"Swim after your rod, Jimmy," cried Frank.
"Whoo, hoo! it is so cold," spluttered Jimmy.
He scrambled into the punt, and, just staying to recover the rod, and with it a pike of about six pounds in weight, they rowed back, and Jimmy ran home to change.
Frank afterwards said to Jimmy,—
"That stilt dodge of yours is a capital idea. You see you caught a pike directly with it. Won't you try it again?"
"No, thank you," said Jimmy, "once ducked, twice shy."
After a few days' fine weather a hard frost and deep snow set in. A stiff breeze prevented the broad from being frozenover, and swept the snow into drifts wherever there was anything to arrest its progress. When the snow had ceased, the wind and frost still continued, and wild-fowl in large numbers visited the broad. Dick did not care sufficiently about the shooting to make him willing to face the cold; but Jimmy and Frank had capital sport among the wild-ducks. They killed the greatest number when the ducks took their morning or evening flight across a reedy spit of land which ran out into the broad. Here the boys had sunk a large cask in the earth, and when they were both hidden in this, packed in with dry straw and a retriever with them, they were warm and comfortable. The whistle of wings cleaving the air, or a cry of wild-fowl in the starlit silence of the night, would arouse them, and, with their heads peering over the top of the cask, they had their guns in readiness to salute the dark objects passing over with a shower of shot.
In the morning the retriever searched for and picked up the dead birds, and the young gunners finished off the wounded. For four successive nights they enjoyed good sport in this manner, and then it was put an end to by a singular accident. Frank lit a match to see what time it was, and a lighted splinter fell among the dry straw, which instantly blazed up.
"Look out for the powder!" shouted Frank; and he and Jimmy and the dog scrambled out of the cask pell-mell, tumbling over each other in their eagerness to be away from the dangerous proximity of the fire. Frank had the powder-flask in his pocket, and fortunately no fire came near it. The boys too escaped without injury, except that their hair was pretty well singed by the rapid rise of the flame. The retriever was so frightened that he turned tail and bolted, never stopping until he reached his kennel.
"This is a pretty go," exclaimed Jimmy, as with their guns under their arms they watched the tall, roaring column of flame and smoke which ascended from the burning tub.
"The people all about will wonder what it is. What a pity we have nothing to hold water in, so that we could try and put it out! The tub has caught, and will be burnt up."
The sound of oars was now audible across the water, and presently Dick's voice shouted,—
"What's the matter? Are you all right?" and a boat was run ashore, and Dick and Mary, well wrapped up, stepped out.
Dick had been spending the evening at Mr. Merivale's, and just as he was leaving the house, the bright tongue of flame on the opposite side of the broad alarmed him, and Mary insisted upon coming with him to see what mischief her brother had been perpetrating.
They rowed back, followed by the fitful glare of the fire, which shone in their eddying wake, amid the clamour of wild-fowl startled into flight by the unusual apparition. Then as Mary was silently admiring the strange weird scene, there was a blinding flash, followed by two loud reports, which made her start and scream, and then two splashes in the water, as two ducks out of a number which had been passing over the boats fell to the aim of Frank and Jimmy.
Punt-shooting on Breydon.—A Narrow Escape.
TheChristmas holidays had commenced for the boys. Frank had a consultation with Bell, which ended in Bell's borrowing a duck-shooting punt from a neighbour, and Dick's looking up the big duck-gun from his father's lumber-room. The punt was a flat-bottomed one, pointed at both ends and covered fore and aft, so as to form two watertight compartments. In the bows was a rest for the gun to lie upon. As the gun took a pound of shot at a load, Frank was rather nervous about firing it off, for the recoil, if not broken by mechanical appliances, would have dislocated his shoulder. So he bought some india-rubber door-springs, and with them constructed an apparatus to take off the recoil of the gun, and, lest it should by any chance hit his shoulder, he got Mary to make a stout cushion, which he fixed to the butt.
Reports came that Breydon Water was swarming with wild-fowl,so, taking Bell with them as a guide and instructor, and with the shooting-punt in tow instead of their own, they set sail for Yarmouth, and sailing up Breydon Water they moored the yacht by the Berney Arms, a public-house situate where the Yare debouches into Breydon.
As the night fell they could see and hear wild-fowl of various kinds flying to and settling on the muds. Dick preferred staying on board the yacht, for his frame was not yet so inured to winter cold as it had been to summer heat, and the other two, with Bell, set out in the punt about eight o'clock. They rowed down Breydon Water with the last of the ebb, and then floated and paddled up again as the tide rose. Bell crouched in the stern and worked the two short paddles by which the punt was propelled when approaching the birds. Frank lay in the bows, with the big gun in position in front of him, and Jimmy cuddled up in the middle, armed with Frank's light double-barrel, ready to knock over any of the wounded birds which might try to escape. The night was rather light with the brightness from the stars, which shone resplendently from the deep, dark blue, and in the east the moon lifted a faint curved horn above the trees.
"There are a lot of birds on that mud-bank; I can hear them quite plainly," whispered Frank to Bell.
"Hush! Don't you speak or fire until I whistle, and then pull the trigger; but have the gun ready covering the birds. They are too scattered now. Wait until the tide rises a little higher, and covers most part of the bank, and then they will huddle together, when you will kill twice as many."
They waited for a quarter of an hour, gradually drawing nearer the birds, which were now collected together on a large dark patch on the mud which was still uncovered by the rippling waves. Frank had his eye on them, the gun covering them and his finger on the trigger, waiting breathlessly for the signal.
A low whistle sounded behind him. A sudden silence took the place of the chattering and gobbling sounds which had before proceeded from the birds. Frank pressed the trigger. The mighty gun flashed forth its deadly contents with a tremendous roar, and Frank found himself hurled back upon Jimmy. He had incautiously put his shoulder to the gun. He was not hurt, however, for the cushion had saved his shoulder. The birds which were unhurt swept away with agreat clamour, but the mud was covered with dead and dying. Two of the winged ones were swimming away, when Jimmy fired and killed them. They landed on the mud, taking care to put on the mud-boards. They picked up the dead ones, and had many a lively chase after the wounded ones on the mud and in the shallow water. They recovered five-and-twenty birds. Half of them were wild-ducks, and the rest dunlins and other shore birds.
Wild Duck Shooting.
Wild Duck Shooting.
They passed on up Breydon, but they could not get another shot of such magnitude. Another punt was on the water, and the noise of its firing and oars disturbed the birds, so that they were difficult to approach. They got, however, two more long shots, and killed six ducks at one and three at another.
The tide had now covered most of the flats, and the birds had either left the water or were floating on the surface, and could not easily be seen because of the waves. Bell then said he knew of a spot where the mud had been artificially raised, so as to form a sort of island, for the express purpose of enticing the wild-fowl to gather on it as the tide rose. He therefore paddled them towards it. Some clouds had obscured much of the starlight, and the night was darker. Frank became aware of one dark patch on the water in front of them, and another to the left. He thought they were both flocks of birds, and selected the left hand one, as being the nearer. He covered it with his gun, and waited somewhat impatiently for Bell to give the signal.
"Surely we are near enough;" he thought, when Jimmy crept up behind him and whispered, "Bell says that is another punt, they must be making for the mud we are, that patch in front."
"By Jove," exclaimed Frank, "I was aiming at the boat, and about to fire. Perhaps they are aiming at us."
"Don't shoot," cried out Bell to the other boat, and Frank immediately twisted his gun around and fired at the birds which rose from the mud-bank.
"I say, you there!" cried out a man in the other boat, "that was a narrow escape for you. I was on the point of firing at you. You should give me half the birds you shot then."
"All right, you shall have them, if you will help to pick them up," sang out Frank. Only a dozen, half of them dunlins, were secured and divided.
"That was a danger in punt-shooting which I hadn't foreseen," said Frank to the stranger. "It was a close shave for you as well as for us. Will you come on board our yacht and have some supper?"
The stranger assented, and proved to be a sporting lawyer from Yarmouth, and a very pleasant fellow.
Drifted to Sea.—A Perilous Position.—Rescue.
Thenext day Bell went off to Yarmouth to sell some of the fowl in the market, and unfortunately got fuddled, so that when the evening came he was unable to accompany the shooters. Frank and Jimmy resolved to go out by themselves. Making a mistake as to the time of the tide, they found themselves carried swiftly down Breydon Water on a tide which had yet four hours to ebb. The night was clear, cold, and starlit, with a stinging north-easter sweeping over the broad water, and whisking the snow on the land into fantastic drifts. The new moon had not yet risen, but every star was blazing brightly, and glimmering reflections shone in the water. As they listened they found that the night was full of strange noises, of quackings and whistlings, and that the air was cleft by the sweep of wings. It was a night of nights for a wild-fowl shooter, and the boys resolved to stop at Yarmouth until the tide turned. As they neared the twinkling lights of the town a flock of wild geese took wing, out of shot, and made for the estuary.
"Oh, do let us follow them, they are sure to alight before they reach the bar," said Frank.
"Very well; but we must take care not to drift out to sea."
"There is no danger of that, we can always run ashore."
So they passed by the quays and fish-wharves, and one by onethe lights opened out, and passed behind them, resolving themselves into a cluster in the distance. Ghostly vessels lifted their tall spars against the sky, the water became more 'lumpy,' and prudence suggested that they should turn back; but the love of sport urged them on, and triumphed. Further still: yet the geese were nowhere to be seen, and not very far off was the white water on the bar. They were fast drifting out to sea, and thought it time to turn. They did so, but could make no headway against the wind and tide, and the shores were so white with surf that it would have been folly to have attempted to land.
"I say, Frank, we've done it now," said Jimmy, as they drifted nearer and nearer to the bar.
"Don't be alarmed: we are all right," said Frank,—but privately he thought they were in a very awkward fix. All the outward-bound vessels, which, had it been earlier, might have picked them up, had left at the commencement of the ebb. The punt was now in the midst of the rougher waves which broke over the banks of sand at the mouth of the estuary, and they were expecting every moment to be swamped, when Frank uttered a cry of joy, and seizing the paddle, made for a black spot which was dancing about in the foam. It was a buoy, and Jimmy seized the 'painter,' and stood up. As they neared it, a wave bore them on its summit within reach. Jimmy succeeded in slipping the rope through the ring on the top of the buoy, and in another moment they had swung under its lee. They were now safe from drifting farther out to sea, but in imminent danger of being swamped, and the time seemed very long while waiting for the tide to turn. The curling waves continually broke over them, and had it not been for the decked portions of the punt they would have been sunk by the first two or three duckings. As it was, they were kept hard at work baling with a tin scoop belonging to the punt, and fending off from the buoy.
Forwards and backwards, up and down and sideways, they were tossed. A great black wall of water, with a thin crest through which the glimmer of a star could occasionally be seen, would come surging along, making their hearts sink with apprehension, and then would sometimes break and die away close by, sometimes dash them against the buoy, and sometimes with a side chop nearly fill the punt. There was a dash ofexcitement about it all which made it not absolutely unpleasant, as long as the sky remained clear and they could see the stars, which seemed to laugh at their puny battle with the elements. But by and by the stars began to disappear in the direction of the wind, and finally were blotted out over the whole heavens by a huge pall of cloud, and the darkness became awfully oppressive. The wind dropped, and its roar subsided into a low moaning sound. They felt the cold intensely as the snow came down quickly and silently, covering them with a white coating. A black cormorant suddenly appeared hovering over them, to be driven away with the paddle, and they could hear the swoop of gulls about them.
"We are not quite food for the birds yet; but I can't stand this much longer," said Jimmy, his teeth chattering with the cold.
"Hold up, old man. The tide will turn in half an hour."
There was the sound of a sudden snap. The rope had parted, and a receding wave bore them away, leaving a rapidly widening distance between them and the buoy.
"Keep her head to the waves," said Frank, "or we shall be upset."
At this critical moment the sky cleared in one patch, and against it they saw the outlines of the dark, square sails of a schooner. The boys hailed her long and loud, and in answer came the hoarse cry, "Where away?"
"Here, on your weather bow. Fling us a rope!"
In a few minutes they and their punt were safe on board, and in another hour they were in an hotel at Yarmouth, dressed in borrowed suits of clothes, and enjoying a hot supper.
After this, and when their own clothes were dried by the kitchen fire, they walked back to the Berney Arms by road, reached the yacht about three o'clock in the morning, to the great relief of Dick, who had been very anxious at their protracted absence.
The next day they sailed down to Yarmouth in theSwan, picked up the punt, and went up the Bure with sheets eased out and a following wind.
The Bread Frozen.—Skating.—Fish Frozen in Ice.—Birds Frozen to the Ice.—Ice-Ships.
Itwas dark when they sailed up the dyke leading to the broad, and the wind had fallen, so that their progress was slow. As they moved out of the dyke, where there was a gentle current, into the open broad, there was a sound of crashing and splintering at their bows, and the way of the yacht was stopped. Jimmy and Dick rushed out of the cabin, where they had been preparing supper, and said to Frank, who was at the helm,—
"What is the matter?"
"Why the broad is frozen over, and we can't get any further."
"Can't we break a passage through?" said Dick.
"We might, but it would be a pity to spoil so much ice for skating. Let us stay here until the morning, and then we can walk across for our skates. The yacht will be as safe here as by the boat-house."
They were already sufficiently wedged in by the ice to be able to dispense with the lowering of their anchor, and after supper—(which by the way consisted of, first broiled bacon, next tinned salmon, then some gooseberry-jam, followed by cheese, and finally a tin of American preserved strawberries, which they had bought at Yarmouth, the whole washed down by coffee and beer)—they turned in for a snooze. The silence of the night was broken by continual sharp, tinkling noises. It was some little time before they discovered that these arose from the ice crystals as they formed along the surface of the water, shooting out in long needles and crossing each other, until every inch of the water was covered.
In the morning the ice was strong enough to bear their weight, although it bent in long waves beneath them as they hurried over it.
The frost continued. The ice was smooth, and black, andhard, and perfectly free from snow. Early and late, the boys sped lightly over it on their skates, enjoying to the full this most invigorating and healthy exercise.
Frank and Jimmy practised threes and eights and the spread-eagle, and the other now old-fashioned figures, with great assiduity; and Dick, having soon mastered the inside edge, tumbled about most indefatigably in his efforts to master the outside edge.
The frost continued with unabated severity, and soon the ice was two feet thick, and the shallower portions of the broad were frozen to the bottom. One day Dick was skating at a good pace before the wind, when something beneath his feet in the transparent ice attracted his attention, and in his haste to stop he came down very heavily. He shouted to Frank and Jimmy to come up, and when they did so, he pointed to the ice at his feet. Midway in the water, where it was about two feet deep, was a shoal of a dozen perch, most of them good sized ones, frozen into the ice in various attitudes, betokening their last struggle to escape. The reason of their being so caught was explained by the fact that they were in a slight depression surrounded by shallower and weedy water, which had frozen so as to shut them in, and give them no means of escape before the water in which they swam became solid.
"That fellow is fully two pounds weight. I wonder if they are dead," said Frank.
"Of course they must be," answered Jimmy; "they cannot be frozen stiff like that and live."
"I am not so sure about that," observed Dick; "caterpillars have been known to be frozen quite stiff, and to all appearance lifeless, yet they revive when they are warmed."
"Well," said Frank, "I tell you what we will do. We will dig them out, and put them into water in the house, and give them a chance."
They did so, and five of the perch, including the biggest and the smallest, came to life, and were subsequently restored to the broad.
One day a rapid thaw set in, and the ice was covered with a thin layer of water. During the night, however, the wind suddenly changed, and this layer of water froze so quickly, that it held fast by the feet many water-fowl which had been resting on the ice.
When the boys went down to the ice in the morning, they saw here and there a dead or dying water-hen or coot thus made captive, and surrounded by a group of the hooded crows, those grey-backed crows which in the winter-time are so common in Norfolk, and the rapacious birds were attacking and eating the poor held-fast water-fowl.
The crowning achievement of the winter was this: They broke theSwanfree, and got her on to the ice; then they supported her on some runners, like large skate irons, made by the village blacksmith, and put on ordinary skates on each rudder to get steerage power, and so constructed with great ease an ice-ship after the fashion of those used in some parts of Canada. With this they sped over the ice at a far quicker rate than they had ever sailed upon the water, and they could steer her tolerably close to the wind. This amusement superseded the skating until the ice melted away, and theSwanonce more floated on the water and sailed in her legitimate manner.
The Thaw.—Cromer.—Prehistoric Remains.
Thethaw was accompanied by torrents of rain for more than a week. At the end of that time the boys were sitting in the boat-house making up their Note-book, when Mr. Meredith entered and said to them,—
"Will you drive with me to Cromer? I hear that a large portion of the cliff has fallen away and exposed a bed containing the bones and remains of prehistoric elephants and other mammalia, and all the geologists of the country are going there. I thought we might as well see these wonderful relics of the past. What do you say?"
"We should like it above all things," said Frank for the others; and Mr. Merivale's horses were forthwith harnessed tothe waggonette, and they started. The rain had ceased, and a cold, white sun shone out of a white space in the leaden sky.
The town of Cromer is the easternmost part of England, and it is built on the summit of a gravel-hill, which the sidelong sweeping tides eat away little by little and year by year. It is said that the church of old Cromer lies buried under the sea half a mile from the present shore. Immediately in front of the village the cliff is plated and faced with flints and protected by breakwaters, but on either side the soft earth is loosened by the frosts and rains, and undermined by the tidal currents, which, running nearly north and south, sweep the débris away instead of piling it at the foot of the cliff.
Putting the horses up at the principal inn, they walked to the cliff below the lighthouse, where a portion of the high cliff had slid into the sea. In one place a recent storm had swept the fallen mass of gravel away and exposed at the bottom a portion of the "forest bed." Here three or four gentlemen, presumably geologists, were freely engaged in poking and digging. One man was tugging hard at a huge bone which projected out of the cliff; another was carefully unveiling the stump of a fossil tree. Here and there were the stumps of trees—oaks and firs, and others, with their spreading roots intact, just as ages ago they had stood and flourished; and between these ancient stumps were the bones and the teeth of elephant, hippopotamus, and rhinoceros, deer of ten different sorts, bears, tigers, and many another animal, the like, or the prototype of which, are now found in tropical regions alone. The boys were very much struck with the sight of these remains of the animals which lived before the Flood, and as they wandered about, finding here a tooth and there a bone, and then the stem of a strange tree, they amused themselves by reconstructing in imagination the luxuriant woods teeming with savage monsters which once stood on a level with the shore, and speculating upon the causes which led to the piling up of the gravel strata which now cover them to such a depth.
"Are these animal deposits peculiar to Cromer, Mr. Meredith?" asked Dick.
"No. You can scarcely dig anywhere in Norfolk in similar deposits without coming upon these remains; this is the case in Holland and Belgium also, so that there is positive evidence that the German Ocean is of comparatively recent origin, thetwo countries having once been connected by a great plain, a portion of which is now covered with water. From the bottom of the sea the fishermen often dredge up bones and fragments of trees similar to those in the base of this cliff."
The short winter day soon drew on to dusk, and they strolled on to the pier to see the sun set in the sea on this the east coast of England. The land so juts out, and to the northward the water so bites into the land, that not only does the sun rise from the sea, but it also sets in it.
The surf-crested waves which broke heavily against the black breakwater were red and lurid with the sunset light, and in fantastic masses, flooded with red and orange, the clouds gathering about the descending sun. And then, as the strange glare faded away and the grey dusk settled over the chafing sea, a white light shot out from the lighthouse tower, and traced a gleaming pathway over sea, pier, houses, and woods, as it revolved with steady purpose.
The Boys' Note-Book.
A Note-bookwas incidentally mentioned in the last chapter. Properly speaking, it should have been mentioned long before.
On the table in the boat-house lay a large folio manuscript book, in which the boys noted down whatever, in their reading or observation, struck them as noticeable or worth remembering, or of which they wished to be reminded at some future time, when they should have leisure to look up what they wished to know concerning the matter noted. Before therefore I close this "strange eventful history," I shall quote a few pages at random out of their Note-book, just to show how it was kept up.
In the left-hand margin of each sheet the date of the entry was written opposite each note, and each jotting was signed by the one making it. So that the book ran after this fashion:—
"They have a novel mode of netting shore birds at Lynn. They have long nets stretched on poles about six feet high, on the sands towards dusk, one line below high water mark and the other upon the ridge."—F. M.
"All grain-eating birds feed their young on insects—as a matter of course because there is no grain in the spring—so they make up for the damage they may do to the grain. I shall write a letter to this effect to the Secretary of the Sparrow Club here. The fellows in that club are as proud of their sparrow heads as a red Indian of his scalps."—F. M.