Wild Duck Walking across the boggy ground, we found it
impossible to see the lake, for it was fringed with grass and reeds, Nit as we got nearer there was a great commotion among the reeds. Thirty or forty mallards rose, swung round in ragged alarm, and then, taking direction, flew off in something that developed into order before they were out of sight. How had they heard us coming ? I could not tell. There was no wind. The ground underfoot was soft and mossy, and we had been silent in our approach. Ten minutes after our arrival more birds burst out of the reeds. Before we left the place several flights came back to reconnoitre. The mallards came at a greater height than a party of teal. The teal swept down over the water, rose and skimmed past us with a wonderful display of speed. It was dusk by the time we went away, and we could hear the sound of wings and the splash of landings. As we tramped out of the hollow, we listened to their squabbling. The mallards were making a noise like their farmyard relatives. Every now and then there seemed to be a great fluttering across the water, as though so,me aggressive drake had turned upon a rival. The path we took led us past half-a-dozen butts from which these birds are shot when wild-fowling begins.
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