54 Wild Birds and their Haunts 



of fowl, travelling at, perhaps, sixty miles an hour. May- 

 be they will pass near his hiding-place, if it be well chosen, 

 and he may have time for a double-barrelled salute before 

 the advance guard sweeps away into the darkness. Then 

 he reloads the gun and puts it at ease to await the next 

 chance. The various species of wild fowl sought by the 

 gunner may be set down as legion. 



The remark that a duck will live anywhere, upon any- 

 thing, is almost correct. We might call him omnivorous. 

 This more especially applies to the domesticated variety, 

 which has a predilection for refuse, and a shame-faced love 

 for anything too " high" for other inhabitants of the 

 farmyard. His wild cousin is, in most cases, far more 

 particular. Indeed, unless in a starving condition, he is 

 epicurean in his tastes. Even as the canvas-back duck, 

 beloved of the gourmet, obtains his distinctive flavour 

 from a diet of the delicate wild celery, so the mallard 

 wants one quality of food — the best — and nearly always 

 contrives to get it. Succulent herbage, seakale, mollusc, 

 Crustacea, grain, berries, and pulse form part of his bill 

 of fare. He fattens on the stubble fields inland, and then 

 flies to the ooze beside river and estuary to plunge his 

 sensitive bill in the soft mud and distil nourishment 

 therefrom in the shape of amphibious insect h'fe. Com- 

 pared with the domestic bird, it is an instance of Hyperion 

 to a satyr. Domesticity has infected the tame duck 

 with a waddle and dimmed his lustre. At mating time, 

 when the wild variety puts on a better attire, we have few 

 British birds to vie with him. His helm is of brilliant 

 metallic green. A white gorget parts his morion from 

 the ruddy chocolate of the breast, chestnut-brown is his 

 mantle, and brilliant orange his legs and feet. He walks 

 smartly, and with none of the awkwardness of his tame 

 relation. His sex is indicated by the four lyre-shaped 

 middle feathers of the tail, which curl upward and out- 

 ward. A somewhat curious chapter can be filched from 

 the book of Nature upon the courting of duck and drake. 

 We put him in the second place, because the maid makes 

 the wooing. She is sombre of hue, while he, clad in all 

 the glories of colour, remains to be approached. She 



