Title: The Swan and Her Crew
Author: G. Christopher Davies
Release date: July 12, 2012 [eBook #40214]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Chris Curnow, C.S. Beers and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
The Boys Hawking on the Broad.
London:
FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.,
BEDFORD STREET, STRAND.
NEW YORK:—SCRIBNER, WELFORD AND ARMSTRONG.
LONDON:
R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS,
BREAD STREET HILL,
QUEEN VICTORIA STREET.
A preface is like the bow of an actor when he comes on the stage, or like the hand-shaking of two friends when they meet—the prelude to the entertainment, or the friendly conversation. I suppose, therefore, I must follow the fashion, and say, "How d'ye do?" in this way. I hope the answer will be, "Quite well, thank you, and much the better for seeing you."
In a book of similar character to this one, which I published a short time ago, I offered to reply to any questions which any of my young readers, who wished for further information upon any of the subjects mentioned in that book, might put to me, by means of letters addressed to me, to the care of the publishers. I then had the pleasure of answering many such letters, and I now repeat the offer to the readers of this book.
I am indebted to my friend Mr. William Whitwell, of Oxford, who is, like myself, a lover of boys, for the chapter on the "Life of a Fern."
PAGE
Greeting.—The Broad District.—Hickling
Broad.—Felling a Tree.—Dodging the Swallows.—Shooting
the Crossbills.—The Boat-house.
Stuffing the Crossbills.—The proposed Yacht.—An
impaled Woodcock.
A Momentous Decision.
Digging for Pupæ.—Dick Carleton.—Metamorphoses of Butterfly.
Building the Yacht.—The Launch.—Great
Crested Grebe's nest.—A floating Coot's nest.—Golden
Crested Wrens.—Their Migration.—The Flight of a Heron.
Mr. Meredith.—"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do,
do it with thy might."—A Botanical Lecture.—The Goat Moth.—Blowing
up a Tree.—An astonished Cow.—Caterpillars
in the Wood.
A Trial Sail.—Preparing for a Cruise.—Charging a Reed Bed.—An
explosion of Birds.—The First Adventure.—Orange-Tip
Butterfly.—No Salt.—How Salt is obtained.
An Eerie Night.—A Ghostly Apparition.—The Barn Owl.—A
Will-o'-the-Wisp.—The Ruff and Reeve.—Snaring
Ruffs.—A Nest.—Wroxham Broad.—Mud-boards and
Leaping-pole.—Wild Duck's Nest in a Tree.
Chameleon.—Light-coloured Eggs.—Sitting Birds have no
Scent.—Forget-me-nots.—Trespassing.—The Owner.—A
Chase.—Capture.—Pintail Duck.—Drumming of
Snipe.—Swallow-tail Butterfly.—A Perilous Adventure.
Moonlight.—Instinct and Reason.—Death's Head
Moth.—Bittern.—Water-rail.—Quail.—Golden Plover.—Hen-Harrier
and Weasel.—Preserving Bird-skins.
To the Rescue.—A Long-tailed Tit's Nest.—A Shower of
Feathers.
Yarmouth.—The "Rows."—A Stiff Breeze.—An Exciting
Sail.—Sparrow-hawk's Nest.—A Nasty Fall.—Long-eared
Owl.—Partridge.—Sandpiper.
A Grizzly Bear.—Gossamers.—Strike only on the Box.
Oulton Broad.—Lateeners.—Lowestoft.—Ringed Plover's
Nest.—Oyster-catcher.—Shore-fishing.—A Perilous Sail.
Animals which never die.—A Wonderful Tip to his
Tail.—Thunderstorm.—Swan's Nest.—Bearded Tit.—Reed-wrens
and Cuckoo.
CHAPTER XVI.104
Old School-fellows.—Tom-Tit's Nest in Boot.—Nuthatch.—
Wryneck.—Ant-hill.—Marsh-Tit.—A Comical Fix.
The Boat-race.—Winning.—Mr. Marston.—Nightingale and
Nest.—The noise of the Nightingales.
A queer Umbrella.—Visit to Scoulton Gullery.—Driving
Tandem.—Running away.—Black-headed Gulls.—Collecting
the Eggs.—Carp.—Wood Argus Butterfly.—Scarlet
Pimpernel.—Grasshopper Warbler.—Chiff-Chaff.—Gall-Fly.—Robins'
Pincushions.
CHAPTER XIX.132
Back again.—Taken in Tow.—Bobbing for Eels.—Glow-worms.—Home.—Urticating
Caterpillars.
CHAPTER XX.137
Golden Oriole.—Landrail.—House-martins in
Trouble.—Siskin.—Peacock and Red Admiral Butterflies.—Winchat's
Nest.—Bitten by a Viper.—Viper and Snake.—Slow-worm.
CHAPTER XXI.149
Fishing.—Jimmy's Dodge.—Bream-fishing.—Good
Sport.—Fecundity of Fish.—Balance Float.—Fish-hatching.—Edith
Rose.—A Night Sail.
Calling for Landrails.—Landrail Shamming
Death.—Yellow-Under-wing Moth and Wasp.—Dragon-Fly and
Butterfly.—Stink-horn Fungus.—Sundew.
Setting Night-Lines.—An Encounter with Poachers.
Water Insects.—Aquaria.
CHAPTER XXV.176
Making a Fern Case.—Ferns.—Harvest
Mouse.—Mole.—Ladybird.—Grasses.
The Life of a Fern.
On the "War-path."—Rabbit-shooting.—Flapper-shooting.—Duck-shooting.—Wood-pigeons.—Life
in an Oak-tree.— Burying-beetles.—Lace-wing Fly.—Stag-beetle.—Hair-worm.
Purple Emperor.—His taste for Carrion.—Woodpecker.—Blue
and Small Copper Butterflies.—Buff-tip Moth.—Moths
at Ivy.—Strange-looking Caterpillars.
How to Attract Perch.—Perch-fishing.—Pike.—Good
Sport.—Plaster Casts.—Model Eggs.
CHAPTER XXX.214
Eel-fishing.—Setting the Nets.—Elvers.—The Merivale
Float.
Hawking.
Heron-hawking.—Great Bustard.—Stock-Dove in
Rabbit-hole.—"Dowe" Dogs.—Search for Bustard's Egg.
Water-hen swallowed by Pike.—Casting-net.—Trapping
Water-hen for Bait.—A Monster Pike.
Fishing on Stilts.—A Capsize.—Wild-fowl Shooting.—A
Flare-up.
Punt-shooting on Breydon.—A Narrow Escape.
Drifted to Sea.—A Perilous Position.—Rescue.
The Broad Frozen.—Skating.—Fish Frozen in Ice.—Birds
Frozen to the Ice.—Ice Ships.
The Thaw.—Cromer.—Prehistoric Remains.
The Boys' Note Book.
CHAPTER XL.259
The Regatta.—The "Waterlog's" Victory.
CHAPTER XLI.264
The Conclusion.
PAGE
THE BOYS HAWKING ON THE BROAD Front.
WOODCOCK 12
HERON 30
WILD DUCK 50
ROACH 52
CHAMELEON 53
YACHT 57
COMMON SNIPE 60
BITTERN 66
WATER-RAIL 68
HEN-HARRIER 74
WEASEL 74
SPARROW-HAWK 82
LATEEN SAIL 92
SWAN'S NEST 100
SWAN 101
CUCKOO AND EGG 103
TOM-TIT AND EGG 106
NUTHATCH107
WRYNECK 108
WORKING ANT AND PORTION OF ANT-HILL 109
EGG OF WRYNECK 110
PAIR-OARED BOAT 116
NIGHTINGALE 119
COMMON GULL 126
YOUNG GULLS COVERED WITH DOWN 127
CARP 128
CHIFF-CHAFF 130
OAK-GALL FLY 131
GLOW-WORM 136
ORIOLE 138
NEST OF AMERICAN SPECIES OF ORIOLE 139
HOUSE-MARTIN 141
SISKIN 141
PEACOCK BUTTERFLY, CHRYSALIS, AND CATERPILLAR 142
VIPER 145
SLOW-WORM 148
BREAM 150
ANGLING 153
TROUT 155
DRAGON-FLY 159
METAMORPHOSES OF FLESH-FLY 166
WATER-BEETLE 166
PUPA AND COMPOUND EYE OF DRAGON-FLY 167
LARVA OF GNAT. ESCAPE OF GNAT FROM ITS PUPA-CASE 167
METAMORPHOSES OF PLUMED GNAT 168
PUPA-CASE, LARVA, AND FLY OF CADDIS-WORM 169
MINNOW 170
SMOOTH NEWT 171
WATER-FLEAS AND ANIMALCULÆ IN DROP OF WATER AS SEEN UNDER THE MICROSCOPE 173
WALL SPLEENWORT 177
OAK FERN 178
WALL RUE, JERSEY FERN, MARSH FERN 180
MOLE182
FERN SPORES 187
SCALY SPLEENWORT OR "RUSTY BACK" 191
WILSON'S FILMY-FERN, TUNBRIDGE FILMY-FERN192
WILD RABBITS 195
WOOD-PIGEON 197
LACE-WINGED FLY 200
STAG-HORNED PRIONUS AND DIAMOND BEETLE 201
GREEN WOODPECKER 204
BLUE BUTTERFLY 204
THE HAUNT OF THE PURPLE EMPEROR 205
PIKE 212
EELS218
COMMON HERON 228
GREAT BUSTARD 230
DOVES 231
MOLE CRICKET 254
COMMON LIZARD 255
OSPREY 256
WHITE ANTS' NEST, ANTS, ETC. 257
HEDGEHOG 258
HONEY BUZZARD 258
The Swan and her Crew.
Greeting.—The Broad District.—Hickling Broad.—Felling a Tree.—Dodging the Swallows.—Shooting the Crossbills.—The Boat-house.
With the same feeling of pleasure which one experiences when one writes to an old friend, I commence to write this new book, which I hope will be read by many a boy friend.
It is very pleasant to an author to feel that he has a large circle of acquaintances whom he has never seen, and who know him only through his books. It should be his aim and endeavour to extend that circle of friends, and to increase the good feeling which they bear towards him. Therefore, my dear boys, I hope that after reading this book which I now submit to your approval, you will conceive as affectionate a regard for me as I have for you.
This is a story of sport and adventure, natural history and science, and the movers in it are three boys just like yourselves; and that you may understand the better what they did, I shall first describe the scene of their exploits. It is the eastern part of Norfolk, and no better place could be found as a field for the doings of three enterprising young naturalists and sportsmen. It is known as the "Broad District," and it consists almost entirely of lake, river, and marsh. If we take Yarmouth on the sea-coast as the starting-point, and look inland, we shall see first of all a large tidal lake known as Breydon Water. From this radiate three rivers going north-west, west, and south-west. The chief of them is the Yare, which winds for thirty miles inward to the old city of Norwich. On our right is the river Bure, or North River, which after a very long and winding course leaves the marsh, and enters a richly-wooded country. To the south is the Waveney, a clear and beautiful stream, which flows past Beccles and Bungay, two towns in Suffolk. All these rivers are slow of current, wide and navigable not only for yachts, but for vessels of large burden, such as wherries, billy-boys, and small steamers. The banks of the rivers are fringed with tall reeds, and they flow through miles of level marsh, where, as far as the eye can reach, there is nothing to be seen but the white sails of the yachts and the dark sails of the wherries, and occasional windmills which are used for pumping the water out of the drains into the rivers. In order to deepen the channel of the river for the purposes of navigation, the embankments have been raised so high that the surface of the water is much above the level of the drains which carry the water off the surrounding marshes, and so the water has to be pumped into the river out of the drains by means of pumps set in action by windmills.
Here and there amid the wide extent of marsh are large lakes or lagoons, which are locally termed "broads." These are very numerous and many of them very large. Most of them are connected with one or other of the rivers. Those on the Yare, are Surlingham and Rockland Broads; on the Bure, or connected with it by long dykes, are Filby and Ormesby Broads, Walsham, Ranworth, Hoveton, Wroxham, Barton, Martham and Hickling Broads, and Heigham Sounds. All these broads are full of fish, large pike and perch, and shoals of enormous bream. They are all very shallow, and are surrounded by dense aquatic vegetation, reeds, rushes, flags and bulrushes, and these are the haunts of many rare birds, and swarm with wild-fowl.
The great characteristic of this part of the county is its utter loneliness and wildness, both qualities which are of especial interest to the sportsman and naturalist. As it is also the most eastern county of England, it is the first to receive many of the rarer migrants on their passage to our shores, and more rare birds are caught there each year than in any other part of our "tight little island."
It is on the shores of Hickling Broad, and on a bright December day, the first of the Christmas holidays, that our story opens. A tall large-limbed boy, about sixteen years of age, yellow-haired, and blue-eyed, stands with his hands in his pockets, looking over the waste of waters on which the wavelets are dancing before a fresh breeze. His name is Frank Merivale, and he appears deep in thought.
The broad waters he is gazing over are lonely and deserted save for occasional flights of wild-fowl, a marshman slowly pulling his boat across, and a wherry (as a Norfolk sailing barge is called) beating to windward along the broad, making very slow tacks to and fro, the reason of which would not be apparent to one who did not know the broad. Why does she not take long stretches which would take her more swiftly on her course? The reason is this, the broad is not more than three feet deep all over, save for a narrow channel in the middle, which is marked out by posts at long intervals, and if the wherry forsook this channel she would run aground.
The Norfolk wherries are of very peculiar build and graceful appearance. They are long, low, and shallow, rather flat-bottomed, but fine and sharp in the stem and stern, which gives them a good hold of the water. They have one mast, stepped well forward and weighted at the foot so that it can be lowered to pass under bridges, and be easily raised again. This mast supports one immense sail, tanned black or red-brown. They sail wonderfully fast, even rivalling the yachts in their speed, and they can go very close to the wind. They are generally worked by two men, who live and sleep in the little cabin astern.
We left Frank Merivale very much absorbed in thought. All at once a happy thought seemed to strike him, for he started from his reverie, and began to execute a step something between a walk and a war-dance. A clump of rushes put an untimely end to this by tripping him up, and causing him to measure his length upon the ground. With philosophical composure he picked himself up, and walked off, whistling merrily, towards a fir copse which stood upon the crest of a rising, lying above. We should say that while the flat marsh stretches between Hickling Broad and the sea, to the westward and inland the country is diversified with woods, and slight elevations forming a very pretty sylvan district. Reaching the fir-wood Frank entered it, and after looking about for a little time, he fixed upon a tall slender young larch-tree. He walked round and round it, and examined it critically, finally lying down on his back at its foot, and, with his eye close to its stem, glanced up it to see if it were perfectly straight. Satisfied on this point, he took out a large clasp-knife, and marked the trunk with a huge cross. Then he crossed the hedge and took his way through a large park, until he came to a paddock and pleasant house nestling among some large lime-trees, and surrounded by croquet lawns and well-kept gardens. It was an old house, built with many wings and projections and in many styles of architecture, the most prominent of which was a heavily-timbered Elizabethan style. Around the two principal sides of the house ran a wooden veranda, which in summer was luxuriantly hung with roses.
This was Frank Merivale's home, and vaulting over the gate which separated the paddock from the lawn, he went into the house. Coming down the broad staircase into the hall, he met his two sisters; the eldest, a girl of thirteen, was like her brother, blue eyed and yellow-haired, with a face full of fun and mischief. Her name was Mary. The younger sister bore the same strong family likeness and was barely eleven.
"Well, merry Mary Merivale," said Frank, "is the pater in?"
"Yes, Frank, he is in the library."
"That's all right; and where are you going?"
"We are going to dig pupæ for you," answered Mary.
"Then you are a good little woman," replied Frank, catching her round the waist, and giving her a kiss.
"Have you got a mat to kneel upon, so as not to catch cold?"
"Yes, we have got a mat and a trowel, in this basket, and we mean to get you a lot of moths. Don't we, Florrie?"
"Yes, ever so many."
Frank went along the passage, and entered the library. Mr. Merivale was seated at the table writing. He was a pale and studious-looking man, with a very kind and genial expression of face. He owned a small estate on the shores of the Broad, and was a deep thinker and scholarly writer, writing books which were intended chiefly for college libraries. He looked up as his son entered, and said,—
"Please father, my birthday is next week."
"I had not forgotten it, my boy."
"Well, sir, I suppose you are going to give me a present of some sort as usual, and I thought, if you don't mind, that I should like to choose my present this time for myself."
"If you choose wisely, you shall have what you wish, Frank."
"Well, sir, all that I want is that you should let me have one of the straight young larches by the Broad. I want to cut it down at once that it may season by the spring."
"It is rather a strange birthday present, Frank, but you may have it, in addition to the one your mother and I were about to get you, which was Morris's British Birds."
"Oh, father, I am so glad. That is just the book I have been wanting."
Mr. Merivale did not ask his son what the larch-tree was for. He thought that if Frank wished him to know he would have told him at once. He had a most perfect trust in his children, and he delighted to let them see that he had this trust in them. Hence it was their pride to deserve the confidence placed in them, and a happier family was not to be found in all Norfolk. Mr. Merivale supposed his son had good reasons for not making him a confidant in the matter of the larch-tree, so forbore to ask him.
Frank quickly made his way to the outbuildings, where he obtained a couple of axes and a long rope. Laden with these he set off along a thickly-hedged lane until he came to a cottage, set far back in an old-fashioned garden. Here lived Jimmy Brett, his great friend, a boy about the same age as himself, who lived with his grandmother, Mrs. Brett, in this quiet little cottage. As Frank went up the garden walk he saw Jimmy perched on a ladder, engaged in painting a long board, a foot wide, which he had fixed up the whole length of the front of the cottage, just below the bed-room window.
"What on earth is that for, Jimmy?" cried Frank, in astonishment.
Jimmy turned round, revealing himself as a slight, pale-faced lad, with an eager and intelligent countenance, and replied—
"Well, you see, the swallows build in such great numbers in these wide old-fashioned eaves that they are rather a nuisance, and grandmother does not like the mess they make of the door-steps and windows below, so I thought if I put a board all the way along beneath their nests it would do away with the nuisance."
"That is a clever idea, Jimmy; but do you not think that the swallows will build below the board next year. They will think you put it there just on purpose for them."
"I never thought of that, Frank," replied Jimmy, looking rather blank; "but now you mention it I think it is likely enough they will;" and by way of parenthesis I may say that next spring the swallows and house-martins did build under the new board in great numbers, and so frustrated Jimmy's plan altogether.
"What are you going to do with those axes and that rope, Frank?"
"Come and see; but first finish your painting, while I go in and see the grandmother."
As the two boys walked off to the fir-copse, Frank told his friend that he meant to cut down the tree, but he would not tell him what it was that he wanted it for, and Jimmy's curiosity was provoked to a great degree.
When they reached the wood they proceeded to the tree which Frank had marked, and Jimmy was sent up to fasten the rope to the top of it. Then while Frank took off his coat and applied the axe vigorously to the bottom of the tree, making the chips fly in all directions, Jimmy took the other end of the rope over the fence, and kept a steady pull upon it. At last the tree began to creak and groan, and then fell over with a crash. Jimmy then took the other axe, and the two began to lop off the branches. This was a long job, and when it was finished they were very warm and tired, and sat down to rest for a while on the fallen tree.
A clicking and cracking sound in the wood about them now became audible to their quick ears. It might have been heard before had it not been drowned by the noise of the axes. They looked up, and to their great delight they saw a small flock of birds larger than a green linnet, and with plumage of red, brown, and yellow. They were flitting about the fir-trees, cutting off the fir-cones with their bills, and then holding them on the branches with their claws, and cracking them, and picking out the seeds, producing at the same time the noise which had attracted the attention of the boys.
"What are they?" exclaimed Jimmy; "their beaks are hooked, and cross each other. I never saw birds like them before."
"They are crossbills, as sure as we are here!" said Frank, excitedly. "Run to the boat-house as quick as you can, while I watch them, and bring the gun."
Brett sped off like a deer, while Frank followed the movements of the strange birds with interest.
Jimmy returned with the gun, and quite out of breath.
"Now," said Frank, "from the difference in colour there are evidently males and females here, and we must get one of each; and we must do it without disturbing the others, as if we don't frighten them they may stay here and breed."
They watched for some time before they could get the desired chance, and then two birds flew, toying with each other, to some distance from the rest. They were evidently male and female. Frank put the gun to his shoulder, a report rang through the wood, and both the crossbills, for such they were, fell dead to the ground.
Frank might have shot many more, but he was a thorough naturalist, and, as such, he disliked the idea of indiscriminate and useless slaughter. He had procured specimens sufficient, and he humanely let the others go.
"Now, Jimmy, we have got a prize. Crossbills are not seen every day. Let us go to the boat-house and skin them, and read something about them in our books."
The boat-house, which belonged to Mr. Merivale, stood at the edge of a little bay of the Broad. It was a large, substantial structure, projecting out into the water, and having a large room above, approached by a staircase. This had been appropriated by Frank as his "den," and here it was that he and his friend transacted all their private business, held their natural history meetings, skinned and stuffed birds, and kept their collection of birds' eggs and butterflies.
Stuffing the Crossbills.—The proposed Yacht.—An impaled Woodcock.
Frank led the way up stairs, and unlocking the door they entered the room, and piling up some brushwood in the grate they lit it, and soon had a roaring fire. The room now presented a very cheerful appearance. A large window at one end looked out over the glittering Broad. The room itself was plainly furnished with a few deal chairs and a table, and at one side of it was an old-fashioned bureau, in the drawers of which the boys' natural history collections were stored. Around the room were several shelves, on which were some very creditably stuffed birds, flower-pots filled with mould and covered with gauze bent over cane arches, the use of which will presently appear, and a good number of books on natural history, chiefly of a cheap and popular kind.
Frank got out a box containing knife-blades of various sizes fastened into handles of wood, two pairs of scissors, pliers, and other tools useful or necessary for skinning or stuffing birds; while Jimmy Brett took down a book on birds, and turned to the account of the crossbill; and as Frank was busy at one end of the table skinning the birds, Jimmy at the other end kept up a running commentary on his book for the benefit of his friend, in the following manner:—
"There is a lot about crossbills here, Frank. They are rare, but they have been found at different times and in different months of the year in many parts of the kingdom. They vary greatly in size as well as in colour, according to age, sex, and the time of the year. They are yellow, red, green, or brown at different times, so if it were not for their cross bills it would be rather hard to distinguish them. There are two pictures of them here; one has a rose-coloured back and red-brown wings, and the other has a green back and brown wings. The beaks curve and cross each other, and appear to be particularly suited for breaking open the cones of fir-trees and picking out the seeds, and they will cut open apples and other fruit to get at the pips. They come generally in the winter, but often stay until the spring, and then they may breed here, although it is very seldom that their nests are found. They breed in Norway and Sweden, and nest very early in the year, and their nest seems to be like a missel thrush's, and is placed in fir-trees. Their eggs are white with just a touch of blue or green, and spotted with brown spots."