At this point was a sort of hanging door formed of rushes backed with osiers, and so arranged that at the slightest push from without the door lifted and enabled a wild-fowl to pass under, but dropping behind it prevented its exit.

The osier tunnel widened out to a sort of inverted basket three feet in diameter.
On the surface of the creek floated some grain which had been scattered there the evening before as a bait.

The lad left the creek before he got to the narrower part, and, making a small circuit in the swamp, came down upon the pen.
"Good!" he said, "I am in luck to-day; here are three fine ducks." Bending the yielding osiers aside, he drew out the ducks one by one, wrung their necks, and passing their heads through his girdle, made his way again to the coracle.

Then he scattered another handful or two of grain on the water, sparingly near the mouth of the creek, but more thickly at the entrance to the trap, and then paddled back again by the way he had come.
Almost noiselessly as he dipped the paddle in the water, the hound's quick ear had caught the sound, and he was standing at the edge of the swamp, wagging his tail in dignified welcome as his master stepped on to dry land.
"There, Wolf, what do you think of that?
A good score of eels and fish and three fine wild ducks.

That means bones for you with your meal to-night--not to satisfy your hunger, you know, for they would not be of much use in that way, but to give a flavour to your supper.