The following morning, with Burdale as a guide, Long Sam and Jack set
off to visit the decoy which had been spoken of, mounted on
rough-looking fen horses, with broad feet which enabled them to get over
the soft ground at a considerable rate, while, they kept the legs of
their riders out of the water. The horses were left at a hut at a
little distance from the decoy, under charge of one of the persons
employed in attending it. It was situated in the midst of somewhat
higher and firmer ground than any they had before passed over, and was
surrounded also with willow, poplar, and other trees.
The decoy consisted of a pond of a hundred and fifty acres, or more
perhaps. On the surface of it floated a number of water-lilies, the
aquatic ranunculus, and the flowers of other water-plants, while at the
edges for a considerable distance gulfs--or canals, they might be
called--had been cut, about seven yards wide at the mouth, more or less,
terminating in a sharp point. About ten or twelve yards from the
entrance of each canal, an arch was formed over the water of about ten
feet in height, a number of other arches succeeding it gradually, as
they advanced towards the inner end decreasing in height and width, the
innermost of all not being more than two feet in height, and about the
same in width. Over these a strong net was thrown and pegged closely
down to the ground, thus forming a complete cage, with a broad entrance
opening on the pool, there being only at the inner end a small door,
through which the fowler could insert his hand to draw out his captives.
"This is what we call a pipe," observed Burdale, as he exhibited the
arrangement to Long Sam.
On either side of the pipe, commencing at the pond, and continuing to
the farther end, was a screen formed of reeds, about five feet in
height, built in a zig-zag form, and broken into lengths of about five
or six feet, and at about a foot from the edge of the pipe. While the
party were examining this pipe, the chief fowler, accompanied by a
little dog, came up to them.
"This is our piper," he observed; "without him we could not manage to
catch any fowls."
He was a little foxy-coloured animal, evidently very obedient and
submissive to his master.
"You will see, sir," observed the man, "we have got ten pipes to our
decoy, all branching off in different directions. The reason of this is
that wild-fowl, when they get up from the water, always fly against the
wind, and so, if we only had the pipes on one side, it would only be
when the wind came from that quarter that we could catch any fowl; so
you see we have them from all sides; and thus from whatever point the
wind blows, we have the chance of catching birds. Now, you see those
birds swimming out in the middle of the pond there? They're our
decoy-ducks; without them we could not catch any wild ones either. I
had a good job to train them. You see, the first thing I did was to
shut them up by themselves, and pretty nigh starve them. I then carried
them a little food; and did the same several times every day, till they
knew me. At last they began to look out for me, and, instead of flying
away, they were too glad to come up and take the food from my hand.
Whenever also I fed them, I whistled just a faint whistle, like this.
And so, at last, as soon as they heard my whistle, they knew that I was
going to give them some food, and I kept on whistling all the time they
were feeding in the same gentle tone. It took me, I suppose, three or
four months before I could trust those birds out; and now, if I did not
continue to feed them, and whistle all the time, they would soon be off
with the rest. I had to train the dog, too; and that took me some time.
You see, his business is to run along the edge of the pipe, show
himself now and then, and then leap through those openings in the
screen. Well, to make him do that, I taught him by giving him a piece
of bread each time he came through; and if he would not jump, then he
got no bread and no cheese, for he is fond of cheese, I can tell you.
"Now, you will understand, that if we are to catch any birds, you must
not show yourself; and you, tall gentleman, if you please, will just
keep stooping down all the time. No disrespect to you, master; if they
caught sight of your face, not a bird would come up the pipe.
"Now there's another thing we shall have to do: we must just each of us
carry a piece of lighted turf, for the birds can smell as well as see;
and they don't mind the smoke, and that carries away any scent by which
we might betray ourselves. Now, we will go round to the side from which
the wind blows directly over the pond. Stoop down, master, if you
please. I will first go and fasten the net over the end of the pipe,
that the birds may fly into it, as I hope there will be many of them
doing before long. Here we are, masters: just step softly over the
turf, and keep bending down. That will do. Now don't speak any more,
but just do as I do. You will see a sight of birds in a few minutes."
After going some little distance towards the edge of the decoy, the
fowler drew aside a small shutter, it might be called, in the screen,
through which he beckoned Jack and his companions to look. A number of
birds, ducks, teal, widgeon, and others, were either floating lazily on
the surface of the lake, or rising and circling round it, while others
were bobbing their heads beneath the water, or diving in search of their
prey which swam below. Again the shutter was closed, and the fowler
threw a few handfuls of bruised barley into the centre of the pipe,
which was soon blown down by the wind to the mouth. He now called the
little piper, and sent him in, in front of the screen, at the same time
whistling low--the well-known signal to the decoy-ducks. On hearing the
sound, they instantly rose and flew towards the mouth of the pipe. Now
the little dog ran along for a few feet in front of the screen, where
the birds could see him, and then suddenly disappeared, by leaping
through one of the openings. On came the wild-fowl, following the
decoy-ducks and fearless of evil. Seeing the dog, the curiosity of the
birds was excited, and up the pipe they began to swim. Again the dog
was turned in, and again the birds followed him in his treacherous
course up the pipe. The same trick was played over and over again, till
the birds had been led well out of sight of the entrance of the pipe.
The fowler then stepping forward in front of the screen, without making
any noise which might frighten the birds still outside, waved his cap
round and round. Frightened by this unexpected apparition, the birds
rose from the water, and rushed at headlong speed towards the narrow end
of the pipe. On they went, driven by the fowler, till they reached the
very end; where, finding what they supposed to be an opening, they
darted through, to discover, when too late, that they were hopeless
captives within a strong net!
The scene was very exciting, especially to Jack, who had never seen it
before, and full forty birds were captured together. The decoy-birds,
as soon as the fowler ceased whistling, employed themselves quietly in
picking up the grains of barley which floated on the water, instead of
proceeding, like their brothers whom they had treacherously betrayed, up
towards the end of the pipe.
"You see you have no risk of starving, Master Deane," observed Burdale,
as he assisted in ringing the necks of the captive birds. "We live like
princes here, as far as food is concerned; and when the weather allows
it, and we can send across the fens, we could always get a good market
for our game."
"We're not always so lucky as we have just been," observed the fowler;
"we have a good many enemies who try to prevent our success. Sometimes
I have seen a heron sit on the top of the outermost arch, just waiting
to dive down and catch some fish he may see swimming below. Now as long
as that heron sits there, not a bird will ever come up that pipe, not
knowing what trick he will play them, and our only chance is to try
another. There are some ducks, too, which nothing will tempt to come up
the pipe. They are the _pochard_, or, as we call them here, pokers.
Now they're the cunningest birds you ever saw! If ever they find
themselves within the mouth, they will suddenly dive and swim out again,
generally making the other birds follow them. At other times they will
stop just at the mouth, where the barley is floating about, and swim
backwards and forwards till they have eaten the whole of it up, and then
off again they will go, laughing at the way they have deceived us. The
worst of all, perhaps, is when an otter builds his house near the mouth.
At first we could not find out what was the matter when no birds would
ever come near, and it was not till I caught the gentleman one day, that
I found out the reason why. No birds are more timid than these
wild-fowl. All the work about the decoy we have to do at night, for if
they hear any sounds they're not accustomed to, they will keep away from
it. As few people ever come out here we are safe enough; but if
strangers were to come, or any body was to fire a gun, we might not
catch a bird for weeks afterwards. However, masters, the wind has
shifted a little, and we will try another pipe; so come along."
The next pipe was worked in the same way as the first. The decoy-ducks
performed their part to admiration; Toby, the little piper, doing his in
a way to gain the applause of all who saw him. His reward was a piece
of cheese at the end of his day's work, for although a number of ducks
were piled up around him, not one of them would he touch.
"Oh, no, no!" said his master; "it's one of the chief things he has to
be careful about. If he had a taste for duck's meat, he would never do
for a piper."
With a large supply of ducks for the farm, the party returned by the way
they had come, Jack promising to pay ere long another visit to the
decoy.
Had it not been for Elizabeth, Jack would have found his time hang
rather heavily on his hands, but as soon as her day's work was over, and
she had resumed her distaff or spinning-wheel, he took his seat by her
side, and either read to her, or talked to her about the books which she
had read. Her quiet, gentle manner put him more in mind of his sister
Kate, than of Polly or Alethea, with whom he could not help occasionally
contrasting her. Not that he fancied he admired Alethea less than he
had done; but, at the same time, he could scarcely help acknowledging to
himself that he was greatly taken with Elizabeth's quiet and gentle
manners. It is possible that the desire to be with Elizabeth induced
him to offer his services to Dame Pearson as an assistant about the
farm, as he assured her he was well able to perform most of the duties
of a farm-servant; and he thus had ample employment in driving in the
cows, assisting in milking them, leading the horses to water, churning
the butter, of which the dame manufactured a considerable quantity, and
performing many other similar duties. He was very glad, however, when
on the third day after his arrival Master Pearson himself appeared at
the farm. Jack was anxious to hear whether the arrangements regarding
the purchase of cattle for Mr Strelley had been satisfactorily carried
out.
"Oh, yes, my young friend," answered Master Pearson, "the money was
honestly paid, and the cattle are now on their way south, and I will
warrant they arrive as safely as if Will Brinsmead himself had been
driving them. They will have no black-mail to pay, either to Master
Nevis or to any other cateran who is in the habit of levying it on the
road. I met a friend from Nottingham, and I've heard about your family;
and I sent them word that you were all safe, and would come back among
them some day,--so you need not make yourself unhappy on that score."
This information greatly relieved Jack's mind, and he was now far better
able than before to enjoy his visit to the farm. Soon after the return
of Master Pearson, much to Jack's satisfaction, Long Sam took his
departure. There was something about the man he did not at all like,
for in general he was overbearing and dictatorial, though he could be
courteous when he chose, as he occasionally was when speaking to Dame
Pearson or Elizabeth. With that young lady, as has been said, Jack
spent a considerable portion of his time, whenever he was in the house;
Dame Pearson made no objection to his so doing. Indeed, so quiet and
sedate was the little girl, that she seemed to treat him more in the
light of a brother than an admirer. From the remarks made by Dame
Pearson, Jack had been anxious to learn more of her early history, but
whenever he introduced the subject to Elizabeth, she invariably tried to
turn him from it.
"Dear mamma and I are very happy now, and quiet and contented: but we
have gone through some very painful scenes, and we desire not to recall
them; so don't, I pray you, speak to me again of my early days."
Pearson seemed to be occupying himself very busily about farm matters,
and wherever he went took Jack with him. On the various pasture-lands,
some partially drained, others tolerably dry by nature, a considerable
number of cattle were fed. They were of all breeds, though the greater
number appeared to have come from the north. There were a good many
horses also--some carefully sheltered in sheds, and others roaming at
large. Pearson exhibited them to Jack with considerable pride.
"I have a number of valuable animals here," he observed, "which will
fetch high prices in the London market, and I purpose early in the
spring sending some up. If you will undertake to accompany them, it
will give you an opportunity of seeing the big city. I may or may not
go myself, but I wish to place them under charge of a trusty man who
knows London well, so that you need have no responsibility in the
matter. In the meantime, you shall try them by turns, so that you will
be able to speak of their various qualities."
This last proposal was very much to Jack's taste, and from that day
forward, he was constantly employed in exercising the horses. In this
way he gained considerable knowledge of the fen-country, and was able to
traverse it in most directions by himself, learning by degrees to
distinguish even at a distance the soft and marshy places which were
impassable, and to pick out the harder ground, even though covered with
water. Frequently he was thus occupied from morning till night, often
being sent considerable distances from the farm with messages to the
surrounding towns. Though the life was a rough one, it was much to his
taste; and he was recompensed for any extra fatigue by the kindly
welcome he always received on his return from the dame and her young
daughter. As the winter grew on, also, various guests arrived at the
farm for the purpose, so they stated, of purchasing cattle or horses;
but though some of them mentioned the subject in his presence, none of
the cattle, at all events, were ever driven away. Jack concluded,
therefore, that they would be sent in the spring to the purchasers. Now
and then a valuable horse was, however, purchased; and sometimes fresh
animals were brought and left there while the owners took their
departure by some means towards the sea-shore, Jack supposed for the
purpose of embarking and going abroad; while others proceeded towards
London. Jack could not, however, help occasionally having suspicions
with regard to the proceedings of the various persons who came to the
farm. He himself was not trusted with their secrets, if secrets they
had; nor did he wish to be so; but most of them were evidently far above
the class of cattle-dealers. Some, indeed, from their conversation and
manners, were undoubtedly men of rank and position in society. As the
winter drew on, the number increased; and from the remarks which they
occasionally let drop, Jack felt convinced that some undertaking of
importance was about to be carried out. He one day hinted the subject
to Elizabeth. She shook her head.
"Don't speak of it," she answered; "I don't like to think about the
matter. I know, as you do, that these men who come here are not
cattle-dealers, but I cannot believe that my father would undertake any
thing wrong or dangerous. I should like to learn what it all means, but
I dare not speak to him on the subject, for though he is very kind, he
does not choose to be questioned about any of his proceedings, and
neither my mother nor I ever venture to do so."
It did not occur to Jack that he might be made a tool of in any way, but
yet he suspected that he might possibly be drawn into some undertaking
against his better judgment. It therefore occurred to him that his
wisest course would be to wish good-bye to Master Pearson and his
family, and either to return to Nottingham and risk the possibility of a
trial, or to throw himself upon the kindness of his future
brother-in-law, Giles Dainsforth of Norwich. "He is so calm and
right-thinking, that he will advise me what to do," he thought to
himself.
But then, again, when he found himself by the side of Elizabeth, he came
to the conclusion that a short time longer would make but little
difference, and for that time, at all events, he would enjoy her
society, while he might also take a few more gallops on Master Pearson's
thoroughbred horses. He had not forgotten Alethea, however, and he
nattered himself that he was as true in his allegiance to her as he had
been before.