148 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



low bay were mallards, a hundred or more of 

 themp and nearly all gaudy greenheads. Some 

 were napping on the shore, others taking their 

 siesta on the water, and numbers of the drakes 

 were gracefully tipping-up as they probed in 

 the mud. It was a picture to remember. The 

 blue-tinted mirror-pond framed in the dull, 

 leaden woods, and with its surface rich with in- 

 verted shadows, and a color scheme composed 

 of the blue and green, rich brown, and black 

 and white patches of the birds, made a canvas 

 that is not found hung in a gallery. 



In a few moments I had the machine set and 

 started working down the slope along a slightly- 

 defined cow-trail that angled toward the birds. 

 The first twenty yards were fairly easy, then I 

 encountered the willows, and the cow-trail van- 

 ished. The sight of these birds filled me with a 

 determination to get a picture if it could be 

 done; and inch by inch I dragged myself after 

 the machine. Dry twigs and leaves had to be 

 removed from my path; some green shoots had 

 to be cut with my knife and gently pushed aside, 

 but always I gained a little ground. At length 

 I had to turn around a clump and work through 

 under a heavy, arched willow. Once clear of 



