ack 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