The Swan And Her Crew Part 10

The water-rail is one of the shyest of water-birds. It creeps among the herbage like a rat, and is very difficult to put to flight. When it does fly, its legs hang down as if it had not strength to hold them up, and it flies but slowly, yet during the winter time it migrates long distances.

The boys spent but little time on the broad, for they were anxious to get further away from home; so, as there was a strong breeze from the west, they ran before it as far as Acle, where they had to lower their mast in order to pa.s.s under the old grey stone bridge.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WATER-RAIL.]

Leaving the yacht moored by the Hermitage Staithe, they walked to Filby and Ormesby Broads, an immense straggling sheet of water with many arms about three miles from the river. They hired a boat, and rowed about for some time, seeing plenty of wild-fowl, but meeting with no adventure worth recording. The broad is connected with the river by a long d.y.k.e called by the euphonious name of Muck Fleet, but it is not navigable, being so filled with mud and weeds. The growing obstruction of this d.y.k.e is an ill.u.s.tration of the process which is going on all over the Broad district day by day. Formerly a much larger portion of it must have been water, but as the reeds grew they decayed, and the rotten matter formed soil. This process was repeated year after year and is going on now. The reeds extend each year and form fresh soil each winter, and so the parts which were always very shallow become filled up, and the extent of marsh increases; and then, as the extent of marsh increases, it is drained and becomes firm, and then is finally cultivated, and waving corn-fields take the place of what was once a lake, and then a marsh, and instead of pike and wild-fowl there are partridges and pheasants.

On the way back to Filby the boys took it into their heads to have a game of 'follow my leader.' Frank was chosen as leader, and he led them straight across-country, scorning roads and paths, and choosing the hardest leaps over d.y.k.es and fences. Across a meadow Frank saw a very stiff thorn fence on the other side of which was a stubble-field.

Collecting all his strength, he made a rush at it, but failing to clear it, his foot caught near the top, and he fell headlong into the next field. d.i.c.k followed his leader with commendable imitation, and sprawled on the top of him; but Jimmy could only breast the hedge, and sat down on the spot whence he had taken his spring. d.i.c.k was up again in a moment, but Frank remained kneeling on the ground with something between his hands.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AFRICAN BUSH QUAIL.]

"What is it, Frank?" said d.i.c.k.

"A bird. I fell upon it. It was on its nest, and I have smashed three of the eggs, but there are five left."

Jimmy joined them, and asked what kind of a bird it was. It was a bird of about eight inches in length, grey in colour, plump, and with a shape which reminded them of the guinea-fowl. They looked at the poor trembling bird, and at its eggs, and came to the conclusion that it was a quail, a supposition which turned out to be right. Quails, though rare generally, were very common that year in Norfolk and Suffolk, and many nests were found, two more by the boys themselves. The nest is simply a collection of dry gra.s.s in a hollow in the ground.

Morris says of the quail:--

"Quails migrate north and south in spring and autumn, and vast numbers are taken by bird-catchers. As many as one hundred thousand are said to have been taken in one day in the kingdom of Naples. Three thousand dozen are reported to have been purchased in one year by the London dealers alone. They migrate in flocks, and the males are said to precede the females. They are believed to travel at night. They arrive here at the end of April or beginning of May, and depart again early in September. Not being strong on the wing, yet obliged to cross the sea to seek a warmer climate in the winter, thousands are picked up by the sh.o.r.es on their arrival in an exhausted state; many are drowned on the pa.s.sage, and some are frequently captured on board of vessels met with _in transitu_."

I have seen them in poulterers' shops kept in large cages, until they are wanted for the table, and they seemed to be quite unconcerned at their captivity, feeding away busily.

Frank said,

"What shall we do with the bird? I've broken her wing, but I don't think she's much hurt anywhere else."

"Here's some thin twine," said d.i.c.k. "Let us tie the bone to a splint of wood with it, and the wing may heal."

They carried the suggestion out with great care, and the quail, on being allowed to go, ran away with a drooping wing, but otherwise little the worse.

"I suppose we must take all the eggs," said Frank, "for she will not come back to her nest now, as it is all wet with squashed egg."

"Those are not lapwings flying above us, are they?" said d.i.c.k.

"No, they are golden plovers. They are not half so pretty as the lapwings. They have no crest, and are much plainer in plumage, and they have more black on them. Look out for their nests in this marshy spot."

"Here is one," said d.i.c.k.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NEST OF GOLDEN PLOVER.]

"No, that is only a lapwing's, and in a very clever place too; the nest is made, or rather the eggs are placed on the top of a mud-hill, so that when the water rises the eggs will be kept dry."

"Here is a golden plover's, then," said Jimmy, pointing to a depression in the ground, in which were four eggs of the usual plover type, about the same size as the lapwing's, but more blunt in outline, and lighter in ground colour.

"Yes, those are they. Take two of them."

It must not be supposed that I mention all the nests and eggs the boys found in their rambles. s.p.a.ce forbids me to notice more than those which are rare or unusual. For the nest of one rare or uncommon bird they found a dozen of the commoner sorts, for they were very quick observers.

The wind had fallen, and the water was as smooth as gla.s.s. While prowling about the margin, "seeking what they might devour," d.i.c.k stooped to pick a flower which grew by the water-side, and saw the head of a large eel protruding from the mud on the bank, about two or three feet below the surface. He called his companions' attention to it, and on looking more closely they saw at intervals the heads of several more, which poked two or three inches out of the mud. If the water had not been so still and clear, they would not have been able to see them.

"What are they in that peculiar position for?" said d.i.c.k.

"Oh, it is a habit of theirs. They are taking it easy, and watching for any little nice morsel to float by them. When the evening comes they will come out altogether. I will show you how to sniggle them."

"Do what?" said d.i.c.k.

"Wait and see, old man."

They went back to the Hermitage, and Frank borrowed a stocking-needle from a woman at the house. He next got some fis.h.i.+ng-line from the yacht and whipped one end of it to the needle from the eye to the middle. He next got a long pea-stick from the garden, and dug up some lob-worms, and then went to the mud-bank where the eels were.

Frank baited his tackle by running the head of the needle quite up into the head of the worm, letting the point come out about the middle. Then he lightly stuck the point of the needle into the end of the stick, and with the stick in one hand and the loose line in the other, he went quietly to the side, and selecting an eel, he presented the worm to its nose. The eel opened its mouth and took the worm in. Frank gently pulled the stick away and slackened the line, and the eel swallowed the worm head first. When it had disappeared down the eel's throat, Frank struck, and the needle, of course, stuck across the eel's gullet. Frank kept a steady hold upon him, and drew him out of his fastness inch by inch, until he was clear of the mud, and then he lifted him out of the water.

It was a fine eel of two pounds in weight.

"Why, what grand fun that is!" said d.i.c.k. "Let me try," and so enthusiastically did he set to work, that in an hour's time he had got eight large eels.

They now went on board to make their fourth meal that day, it being then half-past four o'clock. Afterwards they all wrote their letters home.

The next morning about nine o'clock they hoisted sail, and started, intending to reach Yarmouth that day. A strong breeze, almost amounting to a gale, blew from the west, and they were obliged to take in reefs in both the main-sail and the mizen, and then they spun along at a very good rate, the water foaming at their bows and surging in their wake.

Above them and to the eastward the sky was blue and without a cloud, but in the west a huge black cloud was slowly rising. Against its gloom, the sunlit marsh, the windmills, and the white sails of the yachts stood out brilliantly clear, and a number of gulls which were flying over the marsh shone out dazzlingly white against it.

"What bird is that? It is a hawk no doubt, but it looks so blue in this light," said Jimmy, pointing over the marsh to where a large hawk was flying in circles uttering screams, and every now and then swooping to the ground.

Frank got out his gla.s.s and took a long look at it.

"It must be a hen-harrier," he said. "I can see it quite clearly. It seems to be very angry with something on the ground. Run the yacht up in the wind, Jimmy, and let us watch it."

"There is another harrier flying to join it as swift as the wind. It is larger and browner, and must be the female," said Frank, describing their movements as he saw them through the gla.s.s.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HEN-HARRIER.]

The second comer swooped down to the ground and rose with some long struggling object in its talons which seemed to be a weasel or stoat.

Frank then through his gla.s.s distinctly saw the weasel seize the hawk by the throat, and the hawk, screaming wildly, rose high into the air--"towering," as a sportsman would say--until it was almost a speck, and its mate accompanied it, circling round it, and also uttering savage screams. Then the hawk and weasel fell through the air, turning over and over, and came plump upon the marsh. The boys landed and went to the spot, while the other hawk slowly circled far out of sight. On reaching the spot they found the hawk dead, and the weasel still alive but stunned. It was soon despatched, and they examined the beautiful hawk which had fallen a victim to its bravery. The weasel's jaws were stained with egg-juice, and not far off they found the hen-harrier's nest which the weasel had been rifling when the hawk attacked it. The nest was built on the ground, and was something like a coot's nest, large and strong in structure. It contained four bluish eggs, two of which were broken.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WEASEL.]

"I tell you what, Frank," said Jimmy, "we must stuff the hawk and weasel, and mount them just as they appeared in the air. It will make a grand group. I am sorry for the hawk, but it is a lucky find for us and our museum nevertheless."

In the meantime they skinned the hawk and weasel, and simply stuffed their skins with cotton-wool and laid them by in the locker. It is not necessary to stuff birds in their natural att.i.tude to preserve them for a cabinet. They may be loosely stuffed with cotton-wool and laid side by side in drawers and labelled, just like eggs, and if at any time afterwards it is desired to set them up in life-like positions, the skins can be softened by letting them lie for a few days in a damp place.

They sailed at a great rate down to Yarmouth, and brought up just outside a row of wherries which were moored to the quay.

CHAPTER XI.

To the Rescue.--A Long-tailed t.i.t's Nest.--A Shower of Feathers.