THE OPEN SEA IN WINTER. 79 
an hour is a fair average, but one local shooter is said to have bagged over 
sixty in the day. In fact, the attraction of the decoys appears quite irresistible 
both to the Ducks and others—or rather, another, for it happened in this wise. 
We were lying one day the middle boat of three, and D——, an old college 
friend, was out at sea driving. Vhe man on the left winged a Scoter, which 
dived and tempted him to pursue it, leaving his decoys at anchor. Meanwhile 
D—— had grown tired of driving, and started in to suggest a change. On 
the way he espied the wanderer’s decoys, easied promptly, and in another 
moment had solemnly begun to stalk them. We saw him crouch lower in 
the boat, while the oars dipped more slowly, more cautiously at every 
stroke. 
He was now within fifty yards, and raised his gun; another stroke, and 
we could picture the grim look of triumph as he reckoned that he was 
bound to get a shot. Of course we ought to have shouted; we ought, but 
we didn’t—we watched. It would doubtless also have been more sporting 
of D—— if he had waited to let them rise; but no—there was a bang; 
the two nearest bobbed hurriedly beneath the surface, rose again, one of 
them minus its head, and mocked the astounded gunner to his face; while 
D 
with a fiendish chuckle, and made straight off for the open sea. Here they 
’s boatman, grasping the situation in a twinkling, wheeled round 
confined their efforts to driving for the remainder of the day. We solaced 
D —— afterwards by telling him how, when the device was first introduced, 
the real birds would often settle down amongst the sham ones. And this 
is true, though one can hardly credit it, as the decoys are for the most part 
roughly shaped lumps of wood or cork, painted black, and leaded to keep 
them upright, and then tied at intervals along a strong piece of cord. 
Most people continue shooting until three o’clock, when it is time to 
renew the chase of the cripples. They will be found collected on the out- 
skirts of a largish flock towards the open sea. It is best to stand upright, 
with the gun ready at the shoulder, for they come up in such unexpected 
places, and dive again so rapidly, that it is quite a difficult matter to get 
a fair shot at them, and many a cartridge will be wasted in the attempt. 
At last, however, they have all turned breast upwards, and we direct our 
boat towards the shore, for evening is closing in, and we have no desire 
to pass the night upon a sandbank. 
Unfortunately, the Scoter will never provide a dish for the gourmand. 
The natives, however, receive them gladly, and say that, if skinned and 
soaked in salt water they are well worth eating. You probably try them— 
once. There is a meaning smile on your landlady’s face as she lifts the 
