60 “COME DUCK SHOOTING WITH ME” 
larger flocks were rising in the air preparatory to seeking 
more quiet quarters. The small bunches and single 
birds were seeking company before going elsewhere. 
Four widgeon came over from behind; fortunately I was 
well down and hidden. I clucked to them. They were 
evidently seeking for additional friends, then with a 
lot of merry companions they would fly away to some 
stubble field to feed. Unfortunately for the widgeon 
my decoys were slow flyers. All four of the widgeon 
came right in to see about it. I stopped two of them. 
After the two dropped, the other two darted down and 
made off close to the surface of the water. This is a 
mean shot and my second shell churned the water be- 
hind them. Disgusted I aimed at one of them, then 
raised my sight until the bird was hidden. It was a 
long shot but that time he landed in the water. One 
of the two that fell at the first barrel was swimming 
away. I waded out after him but it took three shells 
to stop him for keeps. 
The rolled-up gray clouds had untied themselves and 
were gradually spreading across the heavens, cutting 
off any glimpse of blue sky. The wind was still rising. 
The waves had washed down my mud decoys, leaving 
only fragments of mud here and there projecting from 
the water. The twenty wood decoys looked as lone- 
some as shipwrecked sailors. No duck of any intelli- 
gence would be attracted by ducks who tried to rest or 
feed in water, tossed about as my wooden decoys were. 
My only show for a shot was at chance birds that hap- 
pened to fly over. My next shot was at a redhead, a 
long shot at a duck flying fast before a gale of wind. It 
was a perfect miss. 
A wave larger than usual slapped against the side 
boards and a couple of gallons of water tumbled into 
