VICISSITUDES OF SINK-BOX SHOOTING 61 
the sink box. It was time to bail again. The bailer 
was a wooden shell box that, when new, held five hun- 
dred loaded shells. I stooped down, dipped the bailer 
in the water, and lifted it running over and dripping 
and—dropped it again. Five mallards were flying 
close overhead. Grabbing the gun I fired one shot; that 
was all, because as I fired I bumped into the bailer, that 
full of water had sunk to the bottom of the sink box, 
and lost my balance. 
Mist-laden clouds leak very easily in Utah. A fine 
rain started. For the first time that day a good-sized 
bunch of canvasbacks came flying in my direction. 
They were low down and heading for the marsh. My 
gun held but one cartridge of number seven shot; all 
my other number seven shells were shot away. There 
were three boxes of shells left in my shell case, but they 
were all number three. I loaded up with number three 
shells ready to give the ‘‘cans’’a warm reception. They 
came straight on, passing me on the left hand not over 
forty yards high. [I fired all five shells, knocking down 
three. Two of the ‘‘cans’’ were dead, the other 
one swam quickly away the moment he struck the 
water. 
A series of larger waves than usual slapped against 
the side boards, sending buckets of water into the sink 
box. It begantorain hard. Gathering my belongings 
together including the two geese I got out of the sink 
box. In a minute it was full to theybrim with water. 
There was enough water in and around the sink box 
to satisfy the most rabid prohibitionist. It was impos- 
sible to see the shore through the rain, but I could shout 
and I did. Instantly Jimmy’s voice answered. It was 
a relief to hear him. As the wind blew the water in 
around the sink box, the dead ducks floated away 
