64 “COME DUCK SHOOTING WITH ME” 
there was none the day before. The island was our 
boat, surrounded and partly covered by tules or long 
marsh reeds. 
As soon as the blind was fixed to Jimmy’s satisfaction 
he put out our half dozen duck decoys, all we had with 
us. They looked a bit scanty and to make a bigger 
show, Jimmy took his shovel and turned up fifty big 
oblong lumps of black shiny mud in the two inches of 
water. From a distance, it was a picture of a small raft 
of ducks, feeding near a small tule island. Occasion- 
ally a straggler or a bunch of three or four birds, mostly 
spoonbills, would come near enough to look us over. 
But these few long shots only resulted in bagging three 
ducks. Once a big flock of mallards swooped down 
from the clouds and started a tour of investigation 
around us. It was exciting while it lasted. They often 
looked like coming to the decoys, especially when 
Jimmy turned up his duck call, but each time they 
whirled aside before entering the danger zone. 
The morning flight, or rather what little there was of 
it, wasover. It wasteno’clock. I had eaten my lunch 
and my pipe was in full blast, while Jimmy was just 
finishing his last piece of pie. Noon may be the regular 
lunch hour, but very few lunches survive ten o’clock on 
the marsh. 
“Did you know,” began Jimmy, ‘“‘that I went to 
California last winter?”’ 
“Why no,”’ I said; ‘‘what was your idea for going out 
there. ”’ 
“‘Lonesomeness I guess. I was living alone on the 
ranch and it was dull work. It got mighty cold after 
Christmas. I had no one to talk to. No neighbors, 
nothing to do, and nothing to see except snow every- 
where and perhaps a crow flying over or a coyote down 
