During the period of the moulting season they catch many black swans.

Some of the young men lie for hours in ambush on the banks until the unconscious swans have ventured so far into shallow water that they can run round them and cut off their retreat.

When this auspicious moment arrives, with loud shouts the men dash in, and whilst one party intercepts the birds, so that they cannot get into the deeps, a second soon runs them down.

In the same manner they take the young cygnets; and these I believe to be as good eating and as delicate an article of food as any country can produce.
It is also an interesting sight to see the natives creep after wild-fowl, and under cover of the reeds and bushes get so near that they can either spear them or catch them with a noose.

A reedy lagoon lies at your feet, almost surrounded by rocky cliffs and dusky woods; there are some small open spaces of water, but generally it is so thickly overgrown with high reeds that it looks rather like a swampy wood than a lake; in the distance you see curling up a thin cloud of blue smoke, which indicates that a native encampment is at hand.