42 “COME DUCK SHOOTING WITH ME” 
south but were flying low over the water. I neither 
moved or tried to call them but they came straight on, 
passing my ‘‘muds”’ on the outside. They were well 
scattered out but I managed to get three with both 
barrels. 
“Goodness,” said Jimmy, who had just returned to 
the blind, rubbing his eyes and yawning after his nap, 
“‘you have been doing nothing else but shoot the last 
hour. You must have close to the limit by this time.”’ 
‘“‘T have twenty-three,’’ I said. ‘‘Two shy of the 
limit. But get down,” I whispered; ‘‘look south, see 
those seven mallards high up.”’ 
As they came over, Jimmy fired twice at them without 
the slightest result. Loading up he laid his gun down 
and remarked: 
‘“‘T might as well go to sleep again as keep on throwing 
lead at those high fliers. I’ll see if I can call some of 
them down.”’ 
Jimmy was a fine duck caller, but I had faint hopes 
he could win the confidence of any of these cloud 
scorching birds. Again three mallards came in sight, 
sky high, from the south, flying a course that would 
bring them almost directly over us. When they were a 
hundred yards away Jimmy turned loose three long 
ringing ‘‘quacks’’ followed by a half a dozen shorter 
ones. I could see the mallards’ heads move; they were 
looking for their friends that called so loudly. Then 
Jimmy gave them a perfect feed call. The combina- 
tion was irresistible. The mallards lowered slightly, 
although still far out of shot, then flew swiftly onward 
a hundred yards before in a great wide sweep they 
circled back and on motionless wings glided right up to 
the decoys. I whispered a low ‘‘don’t shoot”’ to Jimmy, 
who turned and looked at me, the picture of surprise. 
