A TEXAS DUCK HUNT AND A NEW KIND OF RETRIEVER 



By Tom A. Marshall 



Now the Pour-Way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose — 



Now the Smokes of Spring go up to clear the brain ; 

 Now the Young Men's hearts are troubled for the whisper of the Trees, 



Now the Red Gods make their medicine again! 



— Kipling. 



ICK MERRILL, of Milwaulcee, one of tlie best 

 [[9^ all-around sportsmen in America, and one of the 

 best game locators in the world, adopted Rock- 

 port, Texas, as his Winter home. There he has the cele- 

 brated power boat Beatrice M., where Fred Gilbert and 

 the writer were entertained for a week, cruising the 

 bays and bayous, killing the limit of birds each and 

 every day, scoring on no variety except redheads. 



Merrill had as a slush cook a darkey called '* Nigger 

 Tom.'' He was as much at home in the water as a 

 Catalina Island seal. During the time between flights 

 he would loaf in the boat with us, noting carefully the 

 fall of the birds and immediately starting in pursuit. 

 He swam high in the water, moving rapidly ahead with 

 the Australian crawl stroke. His velocity was such that 

 he would slip many a surprise over on a wounded duck 

 before it knew of the darkey's proximity. 



