by shallow tidal gutters; in the gutters gobies and shrimps dart away, scared by the human shadow, stirring the loose mud in their hurry; above the saltings the redshanks yelp, annoyed and anxious. Sixty-one sheld-duck, perhaps the most beautiful of our resident fowl, were resting on the slub and short grass. preening themselves and leaving behind a litter of white and gay chestnut feathers. Many of the birds were drakes, adorned with bigger knobs on their scarlet bills than their mates, who, no doubt, were deep in some rabbit-burrow, sitting numerous, down-surrounded eggs. When the young brood, tiny infants in down, are led from the burrow to the shore, the fishermen lie in wait to intercept them; the sheld-duck is a showy, handsome bird on ornamental waters. Nevertheless, it is no easy matter to capture these juveniles, for at a very early age they can run, and if they gain the water they prove that diving is instinctive; even a trained water-dog cannot catch them then.
On the Warren, moles burrow in the loose sand, making superficial runs through the turf and star-grass roots; these miners had many runs on the Sands, even below high-tide mark. Surely there are few earthworms within reach of salt water; indeed I have seen countless thousands, drowned out and slain by an exceptionally high tide. Probably the pioneer moles had invaded the sand for the sake of lobs or other marine worms; they had been busy, for the tunnels ran in all directions, crossing and recrossing. Round the point where the sands extend to the islet of Llanddwyn, we met with some accidental members of the fauna, all below the last tide line. The weather had been boisterous, and a strong west wind was lifting the drying sand in clouds, piling the particles on to the dunes; a number of round crustaceans were whisked inland, rolling over the ripple marks. They were masked crabs, usually rather deep water
