I hailed the rising sun as its early beam darted down the vale and was reflected in the water. On the opposite shore we noticed a flock of that stateliest of waders, the flamingo, with its deep red plumage and strong brown beak. Close beside them was a Group of brown geese wading towards us, and screeching as they came was a double file of grey cranes, whilst a gathering of herons was keeping watch upon some rocks that projected from the water. High above the lake could be heard the melodious long-drawn note of the mahem, and amidst the numbers of the larger birds that thronged the surface of the water was what seemed a countless abundance of moorhens and ducks. I stood and gazed upon the lively scene till I was quite absorbed. All at once a sharp whistle from my companion recalled me to myself. I was immediately aware of the approach of a flock of dark brown geese; though unwieldly, they made a rapid flight, their heavy wings making a considerable whirr. A shot from each of my barrels brought down two of the birds into the reeds; the rest turned sharply off to the left, leaving Theunissen, disappointed at not getting the shot he expected, to follow them towards the plain to no purpose. Great was the commotion that my own shots made amongst the denizens of the lake. Quickly rose the grey cranes from the shallow water, scarce two feet deep, and made for the shore where we were standing. In the excitement of their alarm, the crowned cranes took to fight in exactly the opposite direction; the flamingoes hurried hither and thither, apparently at a loss whether to fly or to run, until one of them catching sight of me rose high into the air, screeching
