Punt-shooting on Breydon.--A Narrow Escape.
The Christmas 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 a great 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.
[Illustration: 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.