Next day at the Cañaliza, Bertie and I had 70 ducks by noon, when (by reason of intense sun-glare at the point) I shifted back to my yesterday's post--two hours' tramp through sticky mud and water, with a load of cartridges, ducks, etc. Thereat in one hour (4 to 5 P.M.) I secured 56 ducks, bringing my total for the two days--a record in my humble way, but surpassed threefold, as will be seen on following pages--to over 200 head, and for the party, to precisely 500 (491 ducks and 9 geese), besides flamingoes, ruffs, grey-plover, etc. [Illustration: GODWITS] * * * * * A curious incident occurred on February 11 (1907). But few ducks--and they all teal--had "flighted" early, and a strong west wind having "blown" the water, my post was left near dry. Just as I prepared to move 300 yards eastward, a marvellous movement of teal commenced. On the far horizon appeared three whirling clouds, each perhaps 100 yards in length by 20 in depth, and all three waltzing and wheeling in marshalled manoeuvres down channel towards me. To right and left in rhythmical revolutions swept those masses, doubling again and again upon themselves with a precision of movement that passes understanding. Each unit of those thousands, actuated by simultaneous impulse, changed course while moving at lightning speed; and with that changed course they changed also their colour, flashing in an instant from dark to silvery white, while the roar of wings resembled an earthquake. All three clouds had already passed along the deeper water beyond my reach when there occurred this strange thing. A peregrine falcon had for some time been hanging around studying with envious eye the dozen or two dead ducks stuck up around my post; now he swept away, as it were, to intercept that feathered avalanche on my right, with the result that the third and last cloud, being cut off, doubled back in tumultuous confusion right in my face--what a spectacle! The puny twelve-bore brought down a perfect shower of teal--probably 30 or more fell all around me. I gathered 18 as fast as the sticky mud allowed; others fluttered here and there beyond reach; how many in all escaped to feed marsh-harriers none can tell. Another incident with peregrine:--I had just taken post for night-flighting at the Albacias, when, as dusk fell, a big bird appeared in the gloom making, with laboured flight, directly towards me. Thinking (though doubtfully) that it was a goose, I fired. The stranger proved to be a beautiful adult peregrine, carrying in its claws a marbled duck, and the pair are now set up in my collection. * * * * * Figures such as the following are apt to provoke two sentiments: (1) that they are not true, or that (2), being true, such results must be easy of attainment. The first we pass over. As regards the second, the assumption ignores the nature and essential character of wildfowl.