There are spots in the marisma where the configuration of the shore-line enables the flight of the geese, when disturbed, to be foretold with certainty. For geese will not cross dry land: their retreat is always to the open waters. In such situations excellent results accrue from placing the gun-line at a _right angle_ to the expected line of flight, while all the "beaters," save one or two to flush the fowl, are stationed as "stops" between the geese and their objective. On rising, the birds thus find themselves confronted by a long line of horsemen who intercept their natural retreat, and, in effect, force them back towards the land. Should the operation be well executed, the landmost gun will probably be the first to fire; while the geese thereafter pass down the entire line of guns, possibly affording shots to each in turn. Two guns can then be effectively brought into action. Needless to add, the second must be handled with the utmost rapidity. In wet winters, when the marisma is submerged, "driving" is not available. Obviously you cannot place a line of guns, however keen, in six inches of water, much less in half-a-yard. My first impression of wild-goose driving (writes J.) was one of wonder that such intensely astute and wide-awake fowl would ever fly near, much less over so obvious a danger as the little loose semicircle of rosemary twigs behind which I lay prone on the barest of bare mud. Peering through between their naked stalks, I could plainly see the geese some half-mile away, and it seemed incredible that I should not be equally visible to them. Possibly the brown leaves on top of the twigs may have concealed me from the loftier anserine point of view, and the equestrian manoeuvres beyond no doubt greatly aided the object. Anyway, the whole pack--three or four hundred, and proportionally noisy--_did_ come right over me, and a wildly exciting moment it was, I can assure you! We had six or seven drives that day, and bagged twenty-eight splendid great grey geese, of which eight fell to my lot. I may perhaps be allowed to add (since such details are taken for granted, or regarded as unworthy of note by regular gunners of the _marisma_) that to-day we had no less than six times to cross and recross a broad marsh-channel called the _Madre_--floundering, splashing, slithering, and stumbling through 100 yards of mud and water full three-foot deep. It may be nothing (if you're used to it), yet twice I've seen horses go down, and their riders take a cold bath, lucky if they didn't broach their barrels! To follow Vasquez about the _marisma_ is a job that requires special qualities that not all of us possess or (perchance fortunately?) require to possess. The following instructions may be worth the attention of new beginners:-- (1) Never fire till you are fairly certain to kill at least one.