AUTUMN ON THE MOORS 223 



and by their incessant diving. This, however, is never 

 considered by many of our modern keepers (there are 

 exceptions), who regard all ducks as alike, ignoring the 

 fact that different tactics should be employed with differ- 

 ing species. When ducks are descried on open water, 

 the first essential is to discriminate exactly what they 

 are ; and this in autumn can be done with a good field- 

 glass. 



Ducks on inland waters are capable of affording sport 

 of the very highest order — by which I mean to convey 

 that to handle these, or any wildfowl, is always difficult. 

 The fowler, for example, will descry, assembled on the 

 same water, both surface-ducks (such as mallard, teal, and 

 wigeon) and diving-ducks together. The first-named may 

 (or may not) be secured by "moving" them, without dis- 

 turbing the teal or the divers at all. The shot, in such 

 case, is obtained at a point probably a mile away from the 

 water. The teal, it is just possible, may then be secured 

 by a second operation, leaving the diving-ducks for a third. 

 Such work is obviously delicate, involving thorough local 

 knowledge and (what is rarer still) competent assistance. 

 It is "one-man work" — or two at most: for it cannot 

 be shared by parties of shooters, and is for that reason 

 (and another) little consonant with modern ideals. The 

 second reason is that but very, very few couples — or 

 units — necessarily represent the possible reward of thought- 

 out schemes and labour. To the wildfowler, however, 

 these few units suffice, since their possession bespeaks to 

 his inner consciousness, that virtue of "dominion" and 

 the pride thereof. 



To return to our golden-eyes : Among the many shot, 

 or seen shot, on the moorland loughs in autumn, never 

 a single adult drake, in the full piebald plumage, has 



