"And I suppose you have never seen any nests or eggs?"

"No, sir, never; but my little boy has some throstle's eggs, if so be as you would like to have them."

"No, thank you," said Frank; and thanking her for the milk, and bestowing a small coin on one of the children, the boys made their exit.

"It is your turn to do the next kissing, d.i.c.k," said Jimmy.

"All right," replied d.i.c.k cheerfully.

The cottages lay at some little distance apart, and they visited them all in turn, but with the like ill success. Then, as they were thinking of giving it up as a bad job, they espied another small cottage in a little hollow, by a well.

"Let us try this, for the last one," said Frank.

"Very well," said Jimmy "but pray, don't ask for any more to drink. I have the best intentions in the world, but I really cannot find room for any more."

Beside the cottage was a silvery-haired old man, mending a broken paling. Frank went straight at it this time.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, sir," replied the man, touching his hat.

"Have you ever seen any bustards' eggs?"

"Yes, sir, I have two in the house. Would you like to see them?"

"We should."

"Then step in, sirs. I can give 'ee a gla.s.s of good nettle beer."

Jimmy groaned inwardly at the mention of the beer, but the sight of the eggs upheld him.

"Here they be, sir," said the old man, taking down two brown eggs with rusty spots on them, off the chimney-piece. "I took them myself out of the nest in yon fen when I was a lad."

"Will you sell them?"

"Ay, sure. It be a wonder how they come not to be broken, for I have taken no particular heed of them."

"What will you take for them?"

"What you likes to give, sir."

"I would rather you would fix your own price."

"Well, then, if you give me a shilling, I shall be fain."

"No, no, they are worth more than a shilling. We cannot afford to give you what you would get in London for them, and it is only fair to tell you so, but we will give you half-a-crown apiece for them."

"I shall be very glad to have that much for them, sir, if you think they are worth it to you."

So the bargain was concluded, and the boys became the happy possessors of these rare eggs.

I have just been reading, in the _Field_ a very interesting account of the appearance of a great bustard in Norfolk. A gentleman there was told by one of his men that he had seen a "wonderful cur'us bird like a pelican," in a wild part of the fen. The gentleman at once went to look at it, and being a naturalist, he was much delighted to find that it was a bustard, and observation through a telescope told him that it was a c.o.c.k bird. He gave strict orders that it was not to be shot, and that any prowling gunner found on his land was to be consigned without ceremony to the bottom of the nearest d.y.k.e. Then he sent for well-known naturalists from Cambridge and elsewhere, to come and watch the motions of the bird. It was feeding in a lonely part of the fen, in a patch of cole seed, and, each man being armed with a telescope of some sort or other, they had good views of it, both flying and walking. The news soon spread among the naturalists of the county, and one of them, who had some tame bustards in confinement, generously offered to give one of them to be let loose to pair with the wild c.o.c.k. A female bustard was accordingly turned out into the fen as near to the wild bird as they dared to venture without frightening him away, and after a short time, they had the pleasure of seeing the two walking about together. In a day or two more the hen was found dead in a d.y.k.e. Her wings having been clipped she could not fly far enough. Another female was procured, but while seeking for an opportunity of turning it out where the wild one could see it, the wild one flew away. It was heard of afterwards in a different part of the county, and it does not appear yet to have been killed, and the landowners have given orders that it shall not be destroyed. I am looking forward with interest for further accounts of it.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

Water-hen Swallowed by Pike.--Casting Net.-- Trapping Water-hen for Bait.--A Monster Pike.

Frank and Jimmy were punting through one of the reedy pools adjoining the broad, shooting wild-fowl, and had not been very successful, so they were disposed to shoot coots and water-hens, as well as ducks. They saw a water-hen swimming across a small pool into which they had just pushed their way, and Jimmy raised his gun to fire at it, but before he could pull the trigger there was an immense splash and swirl in the water, and the water-hen disappeared down the jaws of an immense pike. The boys stared in amazement.

"That fellow must have been forty pounds in weight at the least," said Frank, as soon as he had recovered himself.

"Let us row home at once and get our tackle, and fish for him."

They rowed quickly back, and upon reaching the boat-house they found that d.i.c.k was there, and had just put the finishing touch to a casting net which they had been occupied in making for some time.

"Bravo! that is capital!" said Frank. "We can now catch some bait with it."

Before casting the net into the water they practised some time with it, for it is very difficult to throw a casting-net properly. After a little practice the boys were able to throw the net so that it described something like a circle on the ground, and then they took it to the shallow parts of the broad, and in a dozen throws they obtained a quant.i.ty of small roach and bream, as well as some large ones. Putting some of the roach into a bait-can, they rowed to the pool where the big pike lay, and first of all tried him with a live bait. But the float was undisturbed, save by the movements of the bait. Then they tried trolling with a dead gorge-bait, then spinning, and then a spoon, but with the like ill success.

"I tell you what," said Frank, at length, "a big fish like that requires something out of the common to induce him to bite. Let us put a big bream on, and try and tempt him by size." So they put a bream a pound and a half in weight on the gorge-hook, and worked the heavy bait up and down every part of the pool, but still without success, and the autumn night came on and put a stop to their fishing.

"We must catch him somehow," said Frank.

"Let us set trimmers for him," suggested Jimmy in despair.

"No, no; we will catch him by fair means if we can."

The big pike, the biggest which they had ever seen, occupied their thoughts all that evening. As Frank was dressing the next morning a happy thought occurred to him, and when he met his friends after breakfast he said,--

"I have got an idea how we may catch that pike. You remember how he took the water-hen under? He decidedly prefers flesh to fish. What do you say to catching a water-hen and baiting our hook with it?"

"The very thing," said Jimmy.

"But how are we to catch the water-hen?" asked d.i.c.k.

"I don't quite know. We must get it alive, you see."

They talked it over, but could not hit upon any plan of capturing one alive, so at luncheon-time they went to Bell, and asked him if he could help them.

"Well, sirs, the water-hens come to my back garden to feed with the hens and sparrows. If you could lay some sort of a trap for them like a riddle-trap for sparrows it would be an easy matter to entice one into it."

"The very thing," said Jimmy. "We will put the casting-net round a wooden hoop and prop it up on a stick, and put bread-crumbs under it."

So the casting-net was called into requisition, and a trap was constructed, and set in Bell's back yard, which was close to a d.y.k.e leading to the broad. The boys hid themselves in an outhouse, having a long string fastened to the stick which supported the net at an angle of forty degrees. First the hens came under it and then the sparrows, and the two began to eat up all the bread put there. At last a water-hen was seen swimming across the d.y.k.e, and with slow and cautious steps creeping up the bank towards the net. Frank took the end of the string in his hand, and peeped cautiously through a c.h.i.n.k in the door while the others looked through a little window. The water-hen fed for some time on the outskirts of the throng of hens and sparrows, and at last ventured within the circle of the net.