IN THE MARSH. 143 
than take any such chances ; besides, if you expect to 
shoot in the same spot the following day, it is much 
better to depart before dark and allow the birds to settle 
there in the twilight undisturbed for the night, they 
will decoy much better on the morrow. If you stay 
until pitch dark, the flames from your gun frighten 
them much more than any reports they hear during 
daylight. In the daytime they expect it, but when 
night comes, and once they are driven from their 
roost, they avoid that spot in the future. 
Where we are now is perfectly familiar to me, and 
we will stay till dark. We will gather up the decoys 
now, for soon darkness will be on us, and we cannot 
do it then; besides, decoys in the faint light do but 
little good. When ducks come in in the twilight, 
they come to spend the night, never dream of danger, 
and swoop in with a swish that shows their fearless- 
ness. Come, now that we have picked the decoys up, 
we will cross over and stay until dark, on the east edge 
of the rice, facing the west; because the reflection of 
the setting sun on the sky brings the birds plainer to 
view. Look to the west! See how bright the sky is; 
how beautiful after the setting of the sun! Notice 
those tiny clouds. From here they seem but a trifling 
height above the horizon, their under edges touched 
with crimson and gold, their centre of lavender and 
black, while their tips seem of crustated whiteness. 
Turn around now, look to the east, and see the con- 
trast. No bright colors, no brilliant contrasts ; simply 
one gray, dull, and lifeless pall overspreading the earth. 
For a few moments we are kept busy firing at the 
incoming ducks, each striving to drop them into the 
open water. They come in from all points of the com- 
