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while the old basket wriggled to and fro wildly. They answered their purpose well on that dangerous bank.

Denzil had been told that a few black terns visited the spit, and that shelducks-sheldrakes-nested in the rabbit-holes on a high part of the spit which the tide did not reach. At the proper time he paid another visit there; a long tramp it was, full nine miles. If you went in a boat it was farther, because of the windings of the creeks and arms of the sea before you reached the open water. Whilst he was there a small boat ran in.

It was

"What cheer, my lad, what cheer?" Winder Bill. "Come aboard, my son; 'tis a long tramp fur ye. I be goin' right back to harbour. Come aboard."

It was a sail to be remembered. For thirteen miles they made their way through the haunts of the fowl. The tide was on the ebb, so they kept midchannel. On each side, on the ooze, the birds were feeding and paddling; all kinds that kept the shores were there.

"Ye see, my son, there's more fowl to be seen from a boat than on shore; but what a chap ye are fur cruisin' in rum places."

After that, as a special mark of his favour and goodwill, he often invited Den to bear him company with his " scribblin' book," as he called it, and to "hev a day on it."

One day when the lad was about half-way thither, Bill's boat ran round a bend of the creek. "Come aboard, my son, 'tis plain sailin' to-day."

They reached the spit, the little craft was moored, and they landed. It was a splendid day, the place looked bright and even gay for that locality. As they sat there smoking and yarning, a Revenue cutter dashed round a point and came at full speed towards their landing-place.

"Ah, my lad," said Winder, "a pretty sight, ain't it? The pretty cretur walks it as though she was alive."

Two of the crew landed. Winder Bill saluted, man-of-war fashion, saying, "Good arternoon, gen'lemen." They were on No-man's Land, and not trespassing on any Crown lands. At a signal a third appeared, and they patrolled the sand-spit in all directions, and then went down to the shore, where they looked intently at the little craft.

"Bide here, my lad," muttered Bill, and down he

went towards them. Soon Den saw the excise officers get on board their cutter again, and stand out to

sea.

When Bill rejoined Denzil he sat for some time silently puffing great clouds of smoke from his pipe ; then he spoke. "If ever a chowter-headed son of a sea-cook was glad to see the small wake of a craft at a distance, I be that: not fur my own sake, but because ye be with me. What whisper has reached 'em now? It is here, on the spit," he said close in Den's ear," and here it must lie for a time; 'tis in the old shelducks' burrow. We'll make sail from this port now. There's a trifle there will please ye, my lad." It reached Den later on.

When Winder Bill yarned, he never spun "cuffers"; in his wide experience he had seen strange things enough. They sounded wild to some of the mudnozzlers, as the stay-at-home ones were called in the marshes; but later experience confirmed all he told.

Rough-voiced, large-hearted Bill passed away before Den left Longshore. He never could say much on the subject of this old smuggling friend; it moved him always.

"My cruise is nearly over," the old skipper had

said with difficulty, as his end drew near.

Bless your kind hearts, my lads; don't grieve, it hurts me." Soon his mind began to wander; he was far away, living over again a part of his past life, and his voice rang out wildly—

"Rake her fore and aft! Boarders-away there! -away!" Then came a pause. The next time he spoke it was in calm sensible tones.

"I've had a long cruise-it is-over.

I've got to anchor. Good-bye-dear lads!-all's well!"

CHAPTER XIII.

BAULK AND WINKLE JOE.

DEN'S favourite among the shore - shooters was Baulk," good-natured, unfashionable, accumulating Baulk. What his eyes saw and desired he would have, if his legs and hands, supplemented by his gun and leaping-pole, could procure it for him;—anything in or about the marshes, that is to say. All the flats, mile upon mile of them, were cut up by dykes and lagoons of various width and depth, with the marsh main-road leading on to the sea-wall. Definite boundaries existed, although they were not easily recognisable by strangers. For one man to trespass on the marsh or flat of another, was an unpardonable offence, unless permission had previously been sought and obtained; and it was fiercely resented by the

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