158 GAME-BIRDS AT HOME. 



toearth, and the rest radiate for a mohient like a 

 fan, then, grouping in a black mass, spin away 

 toward the next field. But not long need envy 

 gnaw your soul over the success of that rustic 

 lout, for over the corn not far away another line 

 of dark dots is bearing down upon you with soft 

 trill answering your whistle. Well away from 

 the other guns it swings, and, stringing out in 

 crescent line with one end toward you, sails 

 swiftly down toward your decoys. A whirl, a 

 flutter, and a medley of white and black and 

 brown and golden dots follows the report of the 

 first barrel, and as the birds rise and sheer off 

 they close for an instant into a dense cloud, from 

 which, at the sound of the second barrel, it 

 almost rains plover. 



