62 BULLETIN 126, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM. 



are kept in pens, inside or behind the enclosure, and a few are teth- 

 ered on the beach, anchored in the water near it or allowed to roam 

 about. Sometimes a few are kept in elevated pens back of the stand, 

 so arranged that the pens can be opened by pulling a cord and 

 allowing the ducks or geese to fly out and meet the MMld ones. With 

 all this elaborate equipment ready for action the gunners, I can 

 hardly call them sportsmen, spend their time inside the house, smok- 

 ing, talking, playing cards, or perhaps drinking, while one man 

 remains outside on the watch for ducks. Should a flock of wild ducks 

 alight in the pond, he calls the others and they all take their places 

 at the portholes, v/ith heavy guns, ready for the slaughter. The 

 quacking of the decoys gradually tolls the wild birds in toward the 

 beach or perhaps the fliers are liberated at the critical moment. 

 Each gunner knows which section of the flock he is to shoot at and 

 waits in anticipation until the birds are near enough and properly 

 bunched, when the signal is given to Are. If the affair has been well 

 managed most of the flock have been killed or disabled on the water, 

 but, as the frightened survivors rise in hurried confusion, a second vol- 

 ley is poured into them and only a few escape. The wounded birds 

 are then chased with a boat and shot. There is no method of duck 

 shooting which is more effective and deadly; with gunners constantly 

 on the watch and decoys always ready to call a passing flock, very 

 few ducks get by without an attempt being made on their lives, and 

 often these attempts are only too successful. Probably before many 

 years this form of duck shooting will be prohibited by law, as too 

 destructive, and the more sportsmanlike method of shooting flying 

 birds from open blinds will give the ducks some chance for their lives. 

 Winter. — When the swamps, ponds, and lakes of the interior are 

 closed with ice the black ducks are driven to the seacoast to spend 

 the winter. They linger in the lakes, even after they are partially 

 frozen over, as long as an open water hole remains, resorting to the 

 spring holes and open streams, visiting the grain fields and marshes 

 or other places where they can find food and resting during the day in 

 large flocks on the ice, where they sleep for hours while some of their 

 number act as sentinels. On the coast their daily routine is to spend 

 the day at sea or on large open bays and to fly into the marshes, 

 meadows and mud flats to feed at night. At the first approach 

 of daylight, long before the rosy tints of sum*ise have painted the sky, 

 black ducks may be seen, singly or in small scattered parties, wing- 

 ing their way out to sea, high in the air, their dark forms barely dis- 

 cernible against the first glow of daylight. At a safe distance from 

 land they rest on the tranquil bosom of the sea or sleep with their 

 bills tucked under their scapulars. It must be half-conscious sleep, 

 or perhaps their feet work automatically, for they never seem to drift 

 much. When the open sea is too rough their resting places are in 



