Except for the fringe of the forest several miles to the south and west of them， there was not a tree in sight. Eastward the flat marsh stretched to low sand.hills on the horizon， and you could tell by the salt tang in the wind which blew from that direction that the sea lay over there. To the North there were low pale.coloured hills， in places bastioned with rock. The rest was all flat marsh. It would have been a depressing place on a wet evening. Seen under a morning sun， with a fresh wind blowing， and the air filled with the crying of birds， there was something fine and fresh and clean about its loneliness. The children felt their spirits rise.
“Where has the thingummy got to， I wonder？” said Jill.
“The Marsh.wiggle，” said Scrubb， as if he were rather proud of knowing the word. “I expect.hullo， that must be him.” And then they both saw him， sitting with his back to them， fishing， about fifty yards away. He had been hard to see at first because he was nearly the same colour as the marsh and because he sat so still.
“I suppose we‘d better go and speak to him，” said Jill. Scrubb nodded. They both felt a little nervous.