Recreations of Christopher North, Volume 1Wilson, John
General
Recreations of Christopher North, Volume 1
Wilson, John
Essays
For how many admirable articles are there themes in the above short
paragraph! Duck, teal, and widgeon, wild-geese, swans! And first, duck,
teal, and widgeon. There they are, all collected together, without
regard to party politics, in their very best attire, as thick as the
citizens of Edinburgh, their wives, sweethearts, and children, on the
Calton Hill, on the first day of the King's visit to Scotland. As thick,
but not so steady--for what swimming about in circles--what ducking and
diving is there!--all the while accompanied with a sort of low, thick,
gurgling, not unsweet, nor unmusical quackery, the expression of the
intense joy of feeding, freedom, and play. Oh! Muckle-mou'd Meg! neither
thou nor the "Lang Gun" are of any avail here--for that old drake, who,
together with his shadow, on which he seems to be sitting, is almost as
big as a boat in the water, the outermost landward sentinel, near as he
seems to be in the deception of the clear frosty air, is yet better than
three hundred yards from the shore--and, at safe distance, cocks his eye
at the fowler. There is no boat on the loch, and knowing that, how
tempting in its unapproachable reeds and rushes, and hut-crested
knoll--a hut built perhaps by some fowler, in the olden time--yon
central Isle! But be still as a shadow--for lo! a batch of
Whig-seceders, paddling all by themselves towards that creek--and as
surely as our name is Christopher, in another quarter of an hour they
will consist of killed, wounded, and missing. On our belly--with
unhatted head just peering over the knowe--and Muckle mou'd Meg slowly
and softly stretched out on the rest, so as not to rustle a
windle-strae, we lie motionless as a maukin, till the coterie collects
together for simultaneous dive down to the aquatic plants and insects of
the fast-shallowing bay; and, just as they are upon the turn with their
tails, a single report, loud as a volley, scatters the unsparing slugs
about their doups, and the still clear water, in sudden disturbance, is
afloat with scattered feathers, and stained with blood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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