WiILp-FowLt or WitLp-FowLt 
numbers. [ have watched flocks of them that 
extended in a solid mass for literally acres. They 
are exceedingly shy, and though such a flock will 
always rise a long distance away, the roar of the 
many wings comes to one as the sound of thunder. 
The flats about Monomoy Point are notable as the 
great Brant-shooting ground of New England, 
where the shy fowl are taken by means of shooting- 
boxes sunk in the sandbars, which latter are often 
artificially made for this purpose. A big string of 
Brant at the depot or in the baggage-car is a familiar 
sight, he Brant are also taken in the fall flight 
in the various ‘‘cooting-lines’’ along the coast. I 
have seen hordes of them there pass by, but they 
almost invariably sheer off to sea, and go around 
the end of the line, much to the disappointment of 
the men in the boats. One day I certainly thought 
that the Brant were about to violate their safe cus- 
tom. A fine bunch were flying low, and coming 
heht tor tie boat next to mine. )l fairly held my 
breathy as l-expect did the two: men in that boat. 
The Brant were within a hundred yards, and seemed 
doomed, when some one fired a shot at a passing 
Hoon, and the Geese turned and went back. | 
saw one of the men take off his cap and hurl it 
down at the bottom of the boat in a rage. 
Another of the prime wild-fowl sights of such 
bays as Chatham is the exit of the Oldsquaws at 
sundown. ‘They feed during the winter days up at 
the head of the bay. To see or shoot them, one 
should anchor in a skiff in the middle of some 
narrow channel. At length there will come a con- 
fused chorus of weird cries, resembling the music 
219 
