250 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 
Then again, an incomer, first deciding to light among 
the decoys, then quickly changing her mind comes right 
over us. This is the only time we shoot and kill, seeing 
nothing at time of pulling the trigger. The duck 
advances; we aim at her; she is coming directly over 
us; we draw on her breast, then her head; the gun 
keeps moving, then her bill is passed, andshe is entirely 
out of our sight. We know she is still coming, and 
moving the gun a trifle further ahead, fire, and she falls 
at our feet. 
Suddenly one passes over our heads unawares, we ac- 
cidentally catch sight of it, when quickly itis high over 
us, going away very fast. Hastily catching aim, we 
fire fully two feet under it. The smoke bothers us ; we 
cannot see whether or not we hit,—the drake is not fly- 
ing away. We mark the direction ; see the golden leaves 
fallina tremulous manner to the ground, thensee falling, 
bounding with gentle concussion from limb to limb, a 
bunch of brown chestnut, canvas, green, purple and 
white, and we mark the spot where the dead drake les. 
The flight of the birds had almost entirely stopped. 
We sat in our blinds gazing listlessly at the fleeting 
clouds, discussing the beauties of the morning, and ad- 
miring the variegated scenery on all sides of us. 
Now the flight begins again, the ducks begin coming 
back in great numbers. My companion was an inexperi- 
enced hunter, and when I would make a double, bis ad- 
miration knew no bounds, and his compliments were 
extravagant to adegree. He wasn’t excitable. Oh, no! 
most beginners are not. Next to his seeing me kill them, 
there was nothing he enjoyed more than shooting 
cripples. When a duck struck the water and showed 
the least inclination to prolong his life, bang! would go 
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