44 BULLETIX 126, UNITED STATES NATIONAL. MUSEUM. 



give timely warning to the ardent hunter, as he seeks his quarry among 

 the reedy sloughs. The mallard is not a diving duck and ordinarily 

 does not go below the surface of the water; when wounded, however, 

 it is skillful in avoiding capture by swimn^.ing under water or hiding 

 among the rushes, \\'ith only its bill protruding; it has even ])een 

 known to hide under a lily pad, lifting the leaf above the surface to 

 enable it to breathe. J)r. Wilfred H. Osgood (1904) relates the fol- 

 lowing interesting incident illustrating the hiding ability of the mal- 

 lard. 



One foiTri»v moraing as we wore slippins; down the current of one of the narrow side 

 channels a brace of maUards flew across a small peninsula to our left and alighted in 

 a little cove, whence they hauled out on the muddy bank. Thinking to secure a 

 good fat duck for dinner, we quickly swung the canoe into an eddy and paddled up- 

 stream toward the little cove. One of the birds flew a\ hile out of range, and at about 

 the same time the other somehow disappeared, although there was but a small patch 

 of grass for concealment. Expecting the bird to rise at any moment, we paddled on 

 but were beginning to feel baffled, when just before the canoe touched the bank, we 

 found our game giving a very pretty exhibition of its confidence in protective color- 

 ation. It was a female mallard, and lay on the brown mud bank, strewn with dead 

 grass and decaying matter, which blended perfectly with the markings of its back. 

 It was not merely crouching, but lay prostrated to the last degree, its wings closely 

 folded, its neck stretched straight out in front of it with throat and under mandiblo 

 laid out straight, and even its short tail pressed flatly into the mud. The only sign 

 of life came from its bright little eyes, Avhich nervously looked at us in a half hopeful, 

 half desperate manner. When a paddle was lifted, with which it could almost bo 

 reached, the bird started up and was allowed to escape with its well-earned life. 



Garnf. -Local fall flights of mallards begin before the end of sum- 

 mer, late in August or early in September, soon after the young birds 

 are able to fly, but these are mainly wandering, drifting flights from 

 their breeding grounds or summer hiding places in the sloughs, to 

 favorite feeding grounds in the vicinity, where wild rice is ripening 

 or where grain stubble ofl'ers a tempting food supply. The real fall 

 migration does not begin in earnest until late in September, when 

 the first early fi'osts, tlu^ brilliant hues of ripening leaves and the fall- 

 ing crop of acorns and beechnuts remind them of adAancing autiunn. 

 But the waning of the harvest jnoon and the crisp, clear nights of 

 early October also remind the hunters of the glori(ms sport of duck 

 shooting; in the stillness of the night they push their flat skifls out 

 through the watery lanes among the acres of reeds and buckbrush to 

 the shallow ponds, overgrown with sraartweed and wild rice, where 

 the ducks are wont to feed, their wooden decoys are anchored in some 

 conspicuous open space and their skift's are carefully concealed in blinds 

 of thick reeds and grasses, where they patiently await the coming 

 daylight, listen for the quacking notes of the awakening ducks and 

 watch for the passing flocks on the way to their feeding grounds. If 

 they have not been shot at too much mallards come readily to the 

 decoys, but they become wary with experience; artiflcial duck calls 



