Dave did not keep his promise the next day, nor the next; but Dick
Winthorpe had his attention taken up by other matters, for a party of
men arrived and stopped with their leaders at the Toft, where they were
refreshed with ale and bread and cheese, previous to continuing their
journey down to the seaside.
The squire and Farmer Tallington accompanied them down to their
quarters, which were to be at a disused farm-house close to the mouth of
the little river; and incidentally Dick learned that this was the first
party of labourers who were to cut the new lode or drain from near the
river mouth right across the fen; that there was to be a lock with gates
at the river end, to let the drain-water out at low tide, and that the
banks of the drain were to be raised so as to protect the land at the
sides from being flooded.
Fen people from far and wide collected to see the gang, and to watch the
surveyors, who, with measuring chain and staves and instruments, busied
themselves marking out the direction in which the men were to cut; and
these fen people shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, while
more than once, when Squire Winthorpe addressed one or the other, Dick
noticed that they were always surly, and that some turned away without
making any answer.
"Never mind, Dick," said the squire laughing. "Some day when we've
given them smiling pastures and corn-fields, instead of water and bog
and ague, they will be ashamed of themselves."
"But--"
"Well, but what, sir?" said the squire as the lad hesitated.
"I was only going to say, father, isn't it a pity to spoil the fen?"
The squire did not answer for a few moments, but stood frowning. The
severe look passed off directly though, and he smiled.
"Dick," he said gravely, "all those years at a good school, to come back
as full of ignorance and prejudice as the fen-men! Shame!"
He walked away, leaving Dick with his companion Tom Tallington.
"I say," said the latter, "you caught it."
"Well, I can't help it," said Dick, who felt irritated and ashamed. "It
does seem a pity to spoil all the beautiful pools and fishing places,
and instead of having beds of reeds full of birds, for there to be
nothing but fields and a great ugly drain. Why, the flowers, and
butterflies, and nesting places will all be swept away. What do we care
for fields of corn!"
"My father cares for them, and he says it will be the making of this
part of the country."
"Unmaking, he means," said Dick; and they went on to watch the
proceedings of the strange men who had come--big, strong,
good-tempered-looking fellows, armed with sharp cutting spades, and for
whose use the lads found that a brig had come into the little river, and
was landing barrows, planks, and baskets, with a variety of other
articles to be used in the making of the drain.
"I'm afraid we shall have some trouble over this business, Tallington,"
said the squire as they went back.
"Well, we sha'n't be the only sufferers," said the farmer
good-humouredly. "I suppose all we who have adventured our few pounds
will be in the people's black books. But we must go on--we can't stop
now."
The next day Tom came over, and the lads went down towards the
far-stretching fen, now once more losing a great deal of the water of
the flood.
They passed the Solemn one apparently none the worse for his bath, for
he trotted away from the gate to thrust his head in the favourite corner
by the old corbel in the wall, and look back at them, as if as ready to
kick as ever.
"Poor old Solomon!" said Dick laughing, "I should have been sorry if he
had been lost."
"Oh, never mind him," cried Tom; "is old Dave coming over to fetch us?
Why, Dick, look!"
"I can't see anything," said Dick.
"Because you're not looking the right way. There! Now he's behind that
bed of reeds a mile away."
"I see!" cried Dick. "Why, it is Dave, and he's coming."
The lads ran down to the edge of the fen, and made their way to the end
of a long, open, river-like stretch of water, which was now perfectly
clear, so that everything could be clearly distinguished at the bottom;
and before long, as they walked to and fro, they caught sight of a
little shoal of small fish, and soon after of a young pike, with his
protruding lower jaw, waiting for his opportunity to make a dash at some
unfortunate rudd, whose orange fins and faintly-gilded sides made him a
delectable-looking morsel for his olive-green and gold excellency the
tyrant of the river.
"He's coming here, isn't he?" said Tom, gazing out anxiously over the
reedy waste.
"Yes; I can see his old fox-skin cap. He's coming safe enough."
"Oh, Dick!" cried his companion.
"Well! What?"
"The powder. You've never given him the powder, and he'll be as gruff
as can be. Has he had the horn?"
"Had two," said Dick, watching the approaching punt, which was still
half a mile away, and being poled steadily in and out of the winding
water-lane, now hidden by the dry rustling reeds which stood covered
with strands of filmy conferva or fen scum.
"But he hasn't had the powder we promised him."
"No," said Dick loftily; "not yet."
"Why, you haven't brought it, Dick!"
"Haven't brought it, indeed! Why, what's this, then?"
He drew a bottle from his pocket, took out the cork, and poured a little
of its contents into his hand--dry, black grains, like so much sable
sand, and then poured it back and corked it tightly.
"You are a good fellow, Dick; but I haven't paid my share."
"I don't want your share," said Dick loftily. "Father gave me
half-a-crown the other day."
"I wish my father gave me half-crowns sometimes," sighed Tom; "but he
isn't so rich as yours."
"There, don't bother about money!" cried Dick. "Let's think about the
birds. Hooray! here he comes! Hi, Dave!"
Sound travels easily over water, and the decoy-man must have heard the
hail, but he paid no heed, only kept on poling his punt along, thrusting
down the long ash sapling, which the fen-men used as punt-pole, staff,
and leaping-pole in turn; and then as the boat glided on, standing erect
in her bows like some statue.
"Now, what a dried-up old yellow mummy he is!" cried Dick. "He can see
us, but he's pretending he can't, on purpose to tease us. Look at that!
He needn't have gone behind that great reed patch. It's to make us
think he is going down to your place."
"Let's run down and meet him," said Tom eagerly.
"No, no; stop where you are. If he sees us go down there he'll double
back directly and come here. He's just like an old fox. I know. Come
along!"
Dick started up and ran in the same direction as Dave had taken with the
punt before he disappeared behind the reed-bed. Tom followed, and they
raced on along the edge till a clump of alders was reached.
"Pst! Tom, round here," whispered Dick; and leading the way he doubled
back, following the long low bed of swamp-loving wood, and keeping in
its shelter till they were once more opposite to the spot where Dave
should have landed.
There, still hid among the trees, Dick stooped down in a thick bed of
dry reeds, pretty close to the water, and in full view of the rough
winding canal leading far and wide.
"Let's hide for a few minutes," said Dick chuckling. "You'll see he'll
come here after all."
The lad had a good idea of Dave's ways, for before they had been
watching many minutes there was the splashing of the pole heard in the
water, and the rustling of the reeds, but nothing was visible, and Tom
began to be of opinion that his companion had been wrong, when all at
once the reeds began to sway and crackle right before them, and before
Tom recovered from his surprise the punt shot right out of the middle of
the long low wall of dried growth, and in answer to a vigorous thrust or
two from the pole, glided across to within a dozen yards of where the
lads crouched.
"Come on, Tom!" said Dick, and they stepped out at once so suddenly that
the decoy-man, in spite of his self-control, started. A curious smile
puckered his face directly and he stood staring at them.
"Why, you have been a long time, Dave," cried Dick.
"Long, boy?"
"Yes, long. You asked us to come over and see the netting."
"Ay, so I did, boy; but there soon wean't be no netting."
"Then come on and let's see it while there is some," cried Dick. "When
we used to be home from school you always said we were too young. You
can't say that now."
"Ay, bud I can," said the man with a dry chuckle.
"Then don't," said Dick. "You've brought your gun there!" he cried
joyfully.
"Ay, I've brote my gun," said Dave; "but I hevven't any powder."
"Yes, you have, Dave," cried Dick, tugging the wine-bottle from his
pocket. "Here's some."
"Eh? Is that powder or drink?" said the man, taking the bottle and
giving it a shake. "It arn't full, though."
"No, it isn't full," said Dick in a disappointed tone; "but there's a
whole pound, and it's the best."
"Ah, well, I daresay it'll do," said Dave slowly.
"Load the gun, then, and let's have a shot at the snipes as we go," said
Tom.
"Nay, she wean't go off till she has had a new flint in. I'm going to
knap one when I get back."
"Jump in, then," cried Dick. "I'm going to pole her across."
"Nay, I don't think it's any use to-day."
"Why, Dave, this is just the sort of day you said was a good one for
netting."
"Did I, lad?"
"Yes; didn't he, Tom? And what's that wisp of birds going over the
water, yonder?"
"Quick, in wi' ye, lads!" cried the decoy-man, with his whole manner
changed. "The right sort. Look, lads, another wisp! See how low they
fly. They mean feeding."
The boys leaped into the punt, and Dick was about to seize the pole, but
Dave stopped him.
"Nay, lad, let me send her across. Save time."
"Then may I have a shot at the first heron I see?"
"Nay, nay; don't let's scar' the birds, lad. It's netting to-day.
We'll shute another time when they wean't come near the net."
Dick gave way, and Dave took the pole, to send the light punt skimming
over the water, and in and out among the reed-beds through which,
puzzling as they would have been to a stranger, he thrust the vessel
rapidly. They were full of devious channels, and Dave seemed to prefer
these, for even when there was a broad open piece of water in front he
avoided it, to take his way through some zigzag lane with the reeds
brushing the boat on either side, and often opening for himself a way
where there was none.
The man worked hard, but it seemed to have no effect upon him; and when
the lads were not watching him and his energetic action, there was
always something to take up their attention. Now a heron would rise out
of one of the watery lanes, gaunt, grey, and with his long legs
stretched out behind to look like a tail as his great flap wings beat
the air and carried him slowly away.
Then with a loud splash and cackling, up would spring a knot of ducks,
their wings whirring as they rapidly beat the air in a flight wonderful
for such a heavy bird. Again a little farther and first one and then
another snipe would dart away in zigzag flight, uttering their strange
_scape, scape_. And all tempting to a lad who sat there within touch of
a long heavy-looking gun, which had been cleaned and polished till every
part was worn.
But he had been told that it was not charged and that the flint-lock was
in a failing condition; and besides, Dick felt that it would be
dishonourable to touch the gun now that it was almost trusted to his
care.
In spite of Dave's ability and knowledge of the short cuts to the part
of the fen where he lived, it took him nearly three-quarters of an hour
to punt across, where the lads landed upon what was really an island in
the fen, though one side ran pretty close up to some fairly dry land
full of narrow water-lanes and pools, all favourite breeding ground for
the wild-fowl.
The boys leaped out while Dave fastened the punt to an old willow trunk,
and, quite at home in the place, went on first to a rough-looking house
nearly hidden among alders and willows, all of which showed traces of
the flood having been right up, submerging everything to a depth of
three to four feet.
"Hullo, Chip! Chip! Chip!" cried Tom, and the decoy-man's little
sharp-looking dog came bounding to them, to leap up, and fawn and whine,
full of delight at seeing human faces again.
There was the twittering and piping of birds, and the scuffling,
scratching noise made by animals in a cage, as they reached the
roughly-fenced yard, more than garden, about Dave's cottage, the boys
eager to inspect the birds, the ferrets, the eel-spear leaning against
the reed thatch, and the brown nets hung over poles, stretching from
post to post, as if to dry.
"Why, it's months sin' you've been to see me," said Dave.
"Well, whose fault's that?" said Dick sharply. "I say, Dave, these nets
are new."
"Ay, every one of 'em. Made 'em all this summer."
"Didn't you get lots of things spoiled when the flood came?" cried Tom.
"N-no, lad, no. Nearly had my birds drownded, but I got 'em atop of the
thack yonder."
"But hasn't your cottage been dreadfully wet?" asked Dick, who was
poking his finger in a cage full of ferrets. "I say, what are John
Warren's ferrets doing here?"
"Doin' nothing, and waiting to be took out, that's all, lad."
"But wasn't your place horribly wet?"
"What care I for a drop o' watter?" said Dave contemptuously.
"Look here, Dick, at the decoys," cried Tom running to a large wicker
cage in which were four of the curious long-legged birds known as ruffs
and reeves.
"Was six," said Dave. "I lost two."
"How?"
"Fightin', lad. I niver see such bonds to fight. Gamecocks is babies
to 'em. I'm going to try a new improved way of ketching of 'em by
challenging the wild ones to fight."
"Never mind about them," said Dick eagerly; "are you going to start
now?"
"Ah! you're so precious eager to begin, lad," said Dave; "but when
you've been sitting out there on the boat for about a couple of hours
you'll be glad to get back."
"Oh, no, we sha'n't!" cried Dick. "Now, then, let's start."
"Ay, but we've got to get ready first."
"Well, that's soon done. Shall I carry the birds down to the boat?"
"Nay; we wean't take them to-day. I've sin more pie-wipes than ruffs,
so let's try for them."
He went round to the back of the hovel and took from the roof a cage
which the lads had not yet seen, containing seven green plovers, and
this was carried to the boat, where the frightened birds ran to and fro,
thrusting their necks between the wicker bars in a vain attempt to
escape.
This done, a bundle of net, some long stout cord, and poles were
carefully placed in the stern, after which Dave went into his cottage to
bring out a mysterious-looking basket, which was also placed in the
stern of the boat.
"That's about all," said the man, after a moment's thought; and
unfastening the punt after the boys were in, he pushed off, but only to
turn back directly and secure the boat again.
"Why, what now, Dave?" cried Dick. "Aren't you going?"
"Going, lad! yes; but I thowt if we caught no bohds you might like me to
shute one or two."
"Well, we've got the gun and plenty of powder."
"Ay, lad; but I've lost my last flint, and I've got to knap one."
The boys followed him ashore, leaving the plovers fluttering in the
cage, and Dave went inside his cottage, and returned directly with a
hammer and a piece of flint, which he turned over two or three times so
as to get the stone in the right position, as, taught by long
experience, he struck a sharp blow.
Now Dave, the duck-decoy-man of the fens, knew nothing about lines of
fracture or bulbs of percussion as taught by mineralogists, but he knew
exactly where to hit that piece of flint so as to cause a nice
sharp-edged flake to fly off, and he knew how and where to hit that
flake so as to chip it into a neat oblong, ready for his gun, those
present being ignorant of the fact that they were watching workmanship
such as was in vogue among the men who lived and hunted in England in
the far-distant ages of which we have no history but what they have left
us in these works. Dave Gittan chipped away at the flint just as the
ancient hunters toiled to make the arrow-heads with which they shot the
animals which supplied them with food and clothing, the flint-knives
with which they skinned and cut up the beasts, and the round sharp-edged
scrapers with which they removed the fat and adhering flesh as they
dressed and tanned the skins to make them fit to wear.
Dave chipped one gun-flint very accurately, failed to make a second, but
was triumphant with the third attempt, and fitting it exactly in the
lock of his piece with a piece of leather at top and bottom, he loaded
the gun with a great deal of ceremony, measuring the powder with a tiny
cup which fitted over the top of his powder-horn, and his shot with the
same vessel, so many times filled.
These rammed down in place with some rough paper on the top, and the
ramrod measured to see whether it stood out the right distance from the
barrel, the pan was primed and closed, and the gun carefully laid ready
for use.
"There," cried Dave in an ill-used tone, "I don't know why I'm tekkin'
all this trouble for such a pair o' young shacks as you; but come
along."
"It's because he likes us, Dick," said Tom merrily.
"Nay, that I don't," cried Dave. "I hate the lot of you. Not one of
you'll be satisfied till you've spoiled all my fen-land, and made it a
place where nivver a bird will come."
"Why, I wouldn't have it touched if I could help it--St! Dave, what
bird's that?" said Dick.
"Curlew," replied Dave in a low voice, whose tones were imitated by the
lads as the boat was softly punted along. "See them, boys!"
He nodded in the direction they were going, towards where a number of
birds were flying about over some patches of land which stood just over
the level of the water. Now they looked dark against the sky, now they
displayed feathers of the purest white, for their flight with their
blunted wings was a clumsy flapping very different to the quiver and
skim of a couple of wild ducks which came by directly after and dropped
into the water a quarter of a mile ahead.
"You come and see me next spring, my lads, and I'll show you where
there's more pie-wipes' eggs than ever you found before in your lives."
"But you'll take us one day to the 'coy, Dave?" said Dick.
"Nay, I don't think I can," said Dave.
"But it's my father's 'coy," said Dick.
"Ay, I know all about that," said the man harshly; "but it wean't be
much good to him if he dree-erns the fen."
Dave's voice was growing loud and excited, but he dropped it directly
and thrust away without making the slightest splash with his iron-shod
pole.
As they came near one bed of reeds several coots began to paddle away,
jerking their bald heads as they went, while a couple of moor-hens,
which as likely as not were both cocks, swam as fast as their long thin
unwebbed toes would allow them, twitching their black-barred white tails
in unison with the jerking of their scarlet-fronted little heads, and
then taking flight upon their rounded wings, dragging their long thin
toes along the top of the water, and shrieking with fear, till they
dropped into the sheltering cover ahead.
Snipes flew up from time to time, and more curlews and green plovers
were seen, offering plenty of opportunities for the use of the gun, as
the punt progressed till a long low spit of heathery gravel, about forty
feet in length and five wide, was reached, with a patch of reeds across
the water about a couple of hundred yards away.
"Is this the place?" cried Dick excitedly; and upon being answered in
the affirmative--"Now, then, what shall we do first?"
"Sit still, and I'll tell you, lads," was the stern reply, as Dave, now
all eagerness, secured the boat and landed his net and poles.
"Don't tread on her, my lads," he said. "Now help me spread her out."
He showed them how to proceed, and the net, about a dozen yards in
length, was spread along the narrow spit of land, which was only about a
foot wider than the net, at whose two ends was fixed a pole as spreader,
to which lines were attached.
The net spread, the side nearest to the water was fastened down with
pegs, so adjusted as to act as hinges upon which the apparatus would
turn, while as soon as this was done Dave called for the
mysterious-looking basket.
This being produced from the punt and opened was found to contain about
a dozen stuffed peewits, which, though rough in their feathers, were
very fair imitations of the real things.
These were stuck along the edge of the net outside and at either end.
"Now for the 'coys," cried Dave, and Tom brought the cage of unfortunate
peewits, who had a painful duty to perform, that of helping to lead
their free brethren into the trap that was being laid for them.
Each of these decoy-birds was quickly and cleverly tethered to a peg
along the edge of the net upon the narrow strip of clear land, a string
being attached to one leg so long as to give them enough freedom to
flutter a little among the stuffed birds, which seemed to be feeding.
"There!" cried Dave, when all was ready; and at a short distance nothing
was visible but the group of birds fluttering or quiescent, for the net
was wonderfully like the ground in colour. "There, she's ready now, my
lads, so come along."
He bade Dick thrust the punt along to the bed of reeds; and as the lad
deftly handled the pole, Dave let out the line, which was so attached to
the ends of the poles that a vigorous pull would drag the net right
over.
It was quite a couple of hundred yards to the reeds, through which the
punt was pushed till it and its occupants were hidden, when, having
thrust down the pole as an anchor to steady the little vessel, the line
was drawn tight so as to try whether it would act, and then kept just so
tense as to be invisible beneath the water, and secured to the edge of
the punt.
"That ought to bring them, lads," said Dave, with his eyes twinkling
beneath his fox-skin cap, after beating a few reeds aside so that they
could have a good view of where the unfortunate peewits fluttered at the
pegs.
"But suppose they don't come?" said Tom. "I know if I was a piewipe I
wouldn't be cheated by a few dummies and some pegged-down birds."
"But then you are not a piewipe, only a goose," said Dick.
"Hist!" whispered Dave, and placing his fingers to his mouth he sent out
over the grey water so exact an imitation of the green plover's cry that
Dick looked at him in wonder, for this was something entirely new.
_Pee-eugh, pee-eugh, pee-eugh_! And the querulous cry was answered from
a distance by a solitary lapwing, which came flapping along in a great
hurry, sailed round and round, and finally dropped upon the little
narrow island and began to run about.
"You won't pull for him, will you, Dave?" whispered Dick.
Dave shook his head, and the boys watched as from time to time the man
uttered the low mournful cry.
"Wonder what that chap thinks of the stuffed ones?" whispered Dick.
"Why don't the live ones tell him it isn't safe?" said Tom.
"Don't know; perhaps they're like old Tom Tallington," said Dick:
"whenever they get into a mess they like to get some one else in it
too."
"You say that again and I'll hit you," whispered Tom, holding up his
fist menacingly.
"Hist!" came from Dave, who uttered the imitation of the peewit's
whistle again, and a couple more of the flap-winged birds came slowly
over the grey-looking water, which to anyone else, with its patches of
drab dry weeds and bared patches of black bog, would have seemed to be a
terrible scene of desolation, whereas it was a place of enchantment to
the boys.
"They come precious slowly," said Dick at last. "I thought that there
would have been quite a crowd of birds, like you see them sometimes.
Look at the old bald-heads, Tom."
He pointed to a party of about half a dozen coots which came slowly out
of the reeds and then sailed on again as if suspicious of all being not
quite right.
Then there was another little flock of ducks streaming over the fen in
the distance, and their cries came faintly as they dashed into the
water, as if returning home after a long absence.
"There goes a her'n," whispered Tom, who was not very good at seeing
birds and worse at telling what they were.
"'Tisn't," cried Dick; "it's only a grey crow."
"If you two go on chattering like that we shall get no birds," said Dave
sharply. "What a pair o' ruck-a-toongues you are; just like two owd
women!"
"Well, but the birds are so long coming," said Dick; "I'm getting the
cramp. I say, Dave, are there any butterbumps [bitterns] close here?"
"Plenty; only they wean't show theirsens. Hah!"
They had been waiting a couple of hours, and the peewit's cry had been
uttered from time to time, but only a straggler or two had landed upon
the strip of land. Dick had been eager to capture these, but Dave shook
his head. It wasn't worth while to set the net and peg out decoys and
stales, he said, to catch two pie-wipes that weren't enough for a man's
dinner.
So they crouched there in the punt, waiting and growing more cold and
cramped, fidgeting and changing their positions, and making waves seem
to rise from under the boat to go whispering among the reeds.
Every now and then Tom uttered a sigh and Dick an impatient grunt, while
at these movements Dave smiled but made no other sign, merely watching
patiently. His eyes glittered, and their lids passed over them rapidly
from time to time; otherwise he was as motionless as if carved out of
old brown boxwood, an idea suggested by the colour of his skin.
"I say," said Dick at last, as there were tokens in the distance of the
day coming to an end with mist and fine rain, "I am getting so hungry!
Got anything to eat, Dave?"
"When we've done, lads."
"But haven't we done? No birds will come to-day."
Dave did not answer, only smiled very faintly; and it seemed as if the
lad was right, for the sky and water grew more grey, and though the
stuffed birds appeared to be diligently feeding, and those which were
tethered hopped about and fluttered their wings, while the two free ones
ran here and there, flew away and returned, as if exceedingly mystified
at the state of affairs on that long, narrow strip of land, Dave's calls
seemed to be as vain as the snares he had made.
"I wonder whether these birds break their shins in running over the
meshes of the net!" said Dick after a long yawn. "Oh, I say, Dave,
there's no fun in this; let's go!"
"Hist! pee-eugh, pee-eugh!" whistled Dave loudly, and then in quite a
low tone that sounded distant, and this he kept up incessantly and with
a strange ventriloquial effect.
The boys were all excitement now, for they grasped at once the cause of
their companion's rapid change of manner. For there in the distance,
coming down with the wind in scattered flight and as if labouring
heavily to keep themselves up, appeared a flock of lapwings pretty well
a hundred strong.
"Hooray! At last, Tom!" cried Dick. "Will they come and settle on the
net, Dave?"
"Not a bird of 'em if thou keeps up that ruck," whispered the man
excitedly.
The next minute he was imitating the cry of the peewit, and it was
answered from the distance by the birds coming along, while the two
stragglers which had been hanging about so long now rose up, circled
round, and settled again.
"Look at them!" whispered Dick. "Lie low, Tom; they're coming."
Both lads were on the tiptoe of expectation, but it seemed as if they
were to be disappointed, for the flock came on slowly, uttering its
querulous cries, and circled round as if to pass over, but they were
evidently still attracted by the decoy-birds, and hesitated and flew to
and fro.
"Oh, if they don't light now!" said Dick to himself. "They're going,"
he sighed half aloud, and then he seized Tom's arm in his excitement,
and gripped it so hard that the boy nearly cried out, and would have
done so but for the state of eagerness he too was in.
For after farther signs of hesitation and doubt, all of which were in
favour of the flock going right away, one of them seemed to give a
regular tumble over in the air, as if it were shot, and alighted.
Another followed, and another, and another, till, to the intense
excitement of the occupants of the boat among the reeds, the long, low
spit of gravel, almost level with the water, became alive with birds
running here and there.
It was on Dick's lips to cry, "Now, Dave, pull!" but he could not speak,
only watch the thin, keen, yellow man, whose eye glittered beneath his
rough hairy cap as he slowly tightened the line, drawing it up till it
was above the surface of the water, which began to ripple and play about
it in long waves running off in different directions. There was so
great a length that it was impossible to draw it tight without moving
the spreader poles; and as the lads both thought of what the
consequences would be if the line broke, the movement at the ends of the
long net spread the alarm.
There was a curious effect caused by the spreading of the wings of the
birds, and the whole island seemed to be slowly rising in the air; but
at that moment the water hissed from the punt right away to where the
flock was taking flight, and as the line tightened, a long filmy wave
seemed to curve over towards them. By one rapid practice-learned drag,
the net was snatched over and fell on to the water, while a great flock
of green plovers took flight in alarm and went flapping over reed-bed
and mere.
"Oh, what a pity!" cried Dick, jumping up in the boat and stamping his
foot with rage.
"And so near, too!" cried Tom.
"Sit down, lads," roared Dave, who was dragging the pole out of the
ground, and the next moment he was thrusting the light boat along over
the intervening space, and the more readily that the bottom there was
only three or four feet below the surface, and for the most part firm.
"Why, have you caught some?" cried Dick.
The answer was given in front, for it was evident that the net had
entangled several of the unfortunate birds, which were flapping the
water and struggling vainly to get through the meshes, but drowning
themselves in the effort.
The scene increased in excitement as the boat neared, for the birds
renewed their struggles to escape, and the decoys tethered on the island
to their pegs leaped and fluttered.
In an incredibly short time the skilful puntsman had his boat alongside
the net, and then began the final struggle.
It was a vain one, for one by one the plovers were dragged from beneath
and thrust into a large basket, till the net lay half-sunk beneath the
surface, and the feeble flapping of a wing or two was all that could be
heard.
The boat was dripping with water and specked with wet feathers, and a
solitary straggler of the plover flock flew to and fro screaming as if
reproaching the murderers of its companions; otherwise all was still as
Dave stood up and grinned, and showed his yellow teeth.
"There!" he cried triumphantly; "yow didn't expect such a treat as
that!"
"Treat!" said Dick, looking at his wet hands and picking some feathers
from his vest, for he and Tom after the first minute had plunged
excitedly into the bird slaughter and dragged many a luckless bird out
of the net.
"Ay, lad, treat!--why, there's nigh upon fourscore, I know."
Dick's features had a peculiar look of disgust upon them and his brow
wrinkled up.
"Seems so precious cruel," he said.
Dave, who was rapidly freeing his decoy-birds and transferring them to
the cage, stood up with a fluttering plover in one hand.
"Cruel!" he cried.
"Yes, and treacherous," replied Dick.
"Deal more cruel for me to be found starved to death in my place some
day," said Dave. "Pie-wipes eats the beedles and wains, don't they?
Well, we eats the pie-wipes, or sells 'em, and buys flour and bacon.
Get out wi' ye! Cruel! Yow don't like piewipe pie!"
"I did, and roast piewipe too," cried Dick; "but I don't think I shall
ever eat any again."
"Hark at him!" cried Dave, going on rapidly with his task and packing up
his stuffed birds neatly in their basket, drawing out his pegs, and then
rolling up and wringing the wet net before placing it in the punt, and
winding in the dripping line which he drew through the water from the
reed-bed. "Hark at him, young Tom Tallington!"--and he uttered now a
peculiarly ugly harsh laugh--"young squire ar'n't going to eat any more
bacon, 'cause it's cruel to kill the pigs; nor no eels, because they has
to be caught; and he wean't catch no more jacks, nor eel-pouts, nor yet
eat any rabbud-pie! Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!"
"Look here, Dave!" cried Dick passionately, "if you laugh at me I'll shy
something at you! No, I won't," he shouted, seizing the cage; "I'll
drown all your decoys!"
"Ay, do!" said Dave, beginning to use the pole. "You're such a
particular young gentleman! Only, wouldn't it be cruel?"
"Ha--ha--ha!" laughed Tom.
"Do you want me to punch your head, Tom?" roared Dick, turning scarlet.
"Nay, lads, don't spyle a nice bit o' sport by quarrelling," said Dave,
sending the boat rapidly homeward. "I wean't laugh at you no more,
Mester Dick. I like you for it, lad. It do seem cruel; and sometimes
when I weer younger, and a bud looked up at me with its pretty eyes, as
much as to say, `don't kill me!' I would let it go."
"Ah!" ejaculated Dick with a sigh of relief.
"But what did that bud do, lad? If it was a piewipe, go and kill
hundreds o' worms, and snails, and young frogs; if it was a heron, spear
fish and pick the wriggling young eels out of the mud. No, lad, it
wean't do; buds is the cruellest things there is, pretty as they are--
all except them as only eats seeds. Everything 'most is cruel; but if
they wasn't the world would get so full that everything would starve.
We've got say fourscore pie-wipes--not for fun, but for wittles--and
what's fourscore when there's thousands upon thousands all about?"
"Why, Dave, you're a philosopher!" said Dick, who felt relieved.
"Yes," said Dave complacently, but with a very foggy idea of the meaning
of the word; "it's being out so much upon the water. Now, there's a
nice couple o' ducks swimming just the other side o' them reeds, as a
lad might hit just as they rose from the water when we come round the
corner; and I'd say hev a shot at 'em, Mester Dick--on'y, if I did, it
would hurt your feelings."
Dick was silent for a moment or two as he tried to keep down his human
nature. Then he spoke out:
"I beg your pardon, Dave, after what you did for us. May I take up the
gun?"
"Ay. Steady, lad!--keep her head over the stem, and I'll turn the boat
round and send you along gently. Now you lie down on your chesty and
rest the barr'l on the net, for she's too heavy for you to handle. Then
wait till the ducks rise, and let go at 'em."
There was another interval full of excitement; the punt was sent quietly
toward the end of the reed-bed; and in obedience to his instructions
Dick knelt ready to fire--Tom watching him enviously, and wishing it
were his turn.
Nearer, nearer, with the punt allowed to go on now by the force of the
last thrust given to it, till the last patch of reed was cleared; and
there, not twenty yards away, swam a fine shieldrake and four ducks.
As the punt glided into sight there was a splashing and whirring of
wings, a great outcry, and away went the birds.
"Now, lad!" cried Dave; and the gun was fired with a deafening report.
But no feathers flew--no unfortunate duck or drake dropped,
broken-winged, into the water. The only living being injured was Dick,
who sat up rubbing his shoulder softly.
"I say," he said, "how that gun kicks!"
"Yes," said Dave dryly, "I put a big charge in her, my lad; but it was a
pity to waste it."
"I couldn't help missing," said Dick. "They were so quick."
"Nay, you wouldn't try to hit 'em, lad, because you thought you'd hot
'em," said Dave, chuckling; and Tom laughed, while Dick sat and nursed
the gun in silence, till the punt was poled ashore and its contents
landed.
"Now," said Dave, "I've got a rabbud-pie as I made mysen. Come and hev
a bit, lads; and then you shall take home a dozen pie-wipes apiece.
It'll be moonlight, and I'll soon punt you across."
That pie, in spite of the rough surroundings, was delicious; and Dick
forgot to pity the poor rabbits, and he did not refuse to take his dozen
lapwings home for a welcome addition to the next day's dinner.
"You see, Tom," he whispered, "I think I was a little too particular.
Good-night, Dave, and thank you!" he shouted.
"Good-night, lads--good-night!" came off the water. Then there was a
splash of the pole, and Dave disappeared in the moonlit mist which
silvered the reeds, while the boys trudged the rest of their way home.