There was so great a length that it was impossible to draw it tight without moving the spreader poles; and as the lads both thought of what the consequences would be if the line broke, the movement at the ends of the long net spread the alarm.
There was a curious effect caused by the spreading of the wings of the birds, and the whole island seemed to be slowly rising in the air; but at that moment the water hissed from the punt right away to where the flock was taking flight, and as the line tightened, a long filmy wave seemed to curve over towards them.

By one rapid practice-learned drag, the net was snatched over and fell on to the water, while a great flock of green plovers took flight in alarm and went flapping over reed-bed and mere.
"Oh, what a pity!" cried Dick, jumping up in the boat and stamping his foot with rage.
"And so near, too!" cried Tom.
"Sit down, lads," roared Dave, who was dragging the pole out of the ground, and the next moment he was thrusting the light boat along over the intervening space, and the more readily that the bottom there was only three or four feet below the surface, and for the most part firm.
"Why, have you caught some ?" cried Dick.
The answer was given in front, for it was evident that the net had entangled several of the unfortunate birds, which were flapping the water and struggling vainly to get through the meshes, but drowning themselves in the effort.
The scene increased in excitement as the boat neared, for the birds renewed their struggles to escape, and the decoys tethered on the island to their pegs leaped and fluttered.
In an incredibly short time the skilful puntsman had his boat alongside the net, and then began the final struggle.
It was a vain one, for one by one the plovers were dragged from beneath and thrust into a large basket, till the net lay half-sunk beneath the surface, and the feeble flapping of a wing or two was all that could be heard.
The boat was dripping with water and specked with wet feathers, and a solitary straggler of the plover flock flew to and fro screaming as if reproaching the murderers of its companions; otherwise all was still as Dave stood up and grinned, and showed his yellow teeth.
"There!" he cried triumphantly; "yow didn't expect such a treat as that!" "Treat!" said Dick, looking at his wet hands and picking some feathers from his vest, for he and Tom after the first minute had plunged excitedly into the bird slaughter and dragged many a luckless bird out of the net.
"Ay, lad, treat!--why, there's nigh upon fourscore, I know." Dick's features had a peculiar look of disgust upon them and his brow wrinkled up.
"Seems so precious cruel," he said.
Dave, who was rapidly freeing his decoy-birds and transferring them to the cage, stood up with a fluttering plover in one hand.
"Cruel!" he cried.
"Yes, and treacherous," replied Dick.
"Deal more cruel for me to be found starved to death in my place some day," said Dave.

"Pie-wipes eats the beedles and wains, don't they?
Well, we eats the pie-wipes, or sells 'em, and buys flour and bacon.
Get out wi' ye! Cruel! Yow don't like piewipe pie!" "I did, and roast piewipe too," cried Dick; "but I don't think I shall ever eat any again." "Hark at him!" cried Dave, going on rapidly with his task and packing up his stuffed birds neatly in their basket, drawing out his pegs, and then rolling up and wringing the wet net before placing it in the punt, and winding in the dripping line which he drew through the water from the reed-bed.

"Hark at him, young Tom Tallington!"-- and he uttered now a peculiarly ugly harsh laugh--"young squire ar'n't going to eat any more bacon, 'cause it's cruel to kill the pigs; nor no eels, because they has to be caught; and he wean't catch no more jacks, nor eel-pouts, nor yet eat any rabbud-pie! Ha--ha--ha--ha--ha!" "Look here, Dave!" cried Dick passionately, "if you laugh at me I'll shy something at you! No, I won't," he shouted, seizing the cage; "I'll drown all your decoys!" "Ay, do!" said Dave, beginning to use the pole.

"You're such a particular young gentleman! Only, wouldn't it be cruel ?" "Ha--ha--ha!" laughed Tom.
"Do you want me to punch your head, Tom ?" roared Dick, turning scarlet.
"Nay, lads, don't spyle a nice bit o' sport by quarrelling," said Dave, sending the boat rapidly homeward.