spurt on to another, and drew up inch by inch. Ten yards from home they
were level; then, for a stroke or two, there was a frantic struggle;
then the "sixers" sent forth a shout that must have frightened the very
fishes; and well they might, for their man had won the race, a yard and
a half clear ahead of our champion.

One race each! And now for the "duck hunt" to settle the match. But
before I go further I ought to explain, for the benefit of those who
have not been initiated into the mysteries of the pastime, how a duck
hunt was managed at Parkhurst.

The part of the river selected was close to the mouth, where the stream
at high water is about a quarter of a mile broad. Two boundary boats,
one above and one below, were anchored at half a mile distance, and
between these limits the hunt was to take place. The "duck" was
provided with a little punt, about five feet long and pretty wide, in
which he was to escape as best he might from a cutter manned by four
rowers and a coxswain, and carrying in its bows a "hunter." As long as
he chose, or as long as he could, the duck might dodge his pursuers in
his punt; but when once run down he would have to take to the water, and
by swimming make good his escape from his pursuers, whose "hunter" would
be ready at any moment to jump overboard and secure him. If, however,
after twenty minutes the duck still remained uncaught, he was to be
adjudged winner.

Such was the work cut out for us on this memorable afternoon. The duck
on the present occasion was a sixth-form fellow called Haigh, one of the
best divers and swimmers in the school, while, as I have already said, I
had been selected to act as hunter on behalf of the fifth.

The duck, arrayed in the slightest of costumes, was not long in putting
in an appearance in his little punt, which, being only five feet long,
was so light that it seemed to jump through the water at every stroke of
the oars; while a single stroke either way sufficed to change its course
in a moment. The cutter, in the prow of which I (as slenderly attired
as the duck) was stationed, was also a light boat, and of course, with
its four rowers, far swifter than the punt; but when it came to turning
and dodging, it was, because of its length, comparatively unwieldy and
clumsy.

All now was ready for the chase. The duck was to get a minute's clear
start, and at the signal off he darted up the stream. The minute seemed
to us in the cutter as if i