THE NORTH SHORE 81 
supposed to guard the whole horizon and yet a duck had 
stolen in, on my side, as you have probably guessed, and 
alighted inside the decoys. I grabbed my double and 
stood up. The duck, strange to say a shy old cock pin- 
tail, as wily in retreat as he had been in advance, sprang 
high in air. I aimed my gun well over him and fired. 
At the instant of firing the pintail, instead of rising, 
dived downward and flew along the water as close as 
possible without getting his wings wet. It was irri- 
tating, but what can you expect sometimes? The second 
barrel was another perfect failure. How Jimmy did 
laugh; but I felt a grudging respect for the pintail’s S 
strategy as he flew away to safety. 
“Tf we don’t do any better than that,” grinned 
Jimmy, ‘‘we wouldn’t have any ducks to be picked at 
any price. Why that pintail was within twenty feet of 
you.” 
‘Well, he isn’t now,’ I said, ‘‘he’s just gone and isn’t 
coming back. Tell me, what is done with the ducks 
when they are picked?”’ 
‘‘Tt’s against the law to ship ducks out of the State,”’ 
replied Jimmy, “‘so they are mostly expressed to various 
hotels and restaurants in Salt Lake City and I suppose 
some tourist is the ultimate consumer. The money 
received goes to the credit of the general expense ac- 
count of the shack.’’ 
“Ducks bring high prices in the Eastern cities,’’ I 
said, just to see what Jimmy would answer. 
‘““Of course,” replied Jimmy, “‘if the birds could be 
shipped out of the State, the big prices—Don’t 
move, there’s a dozen blue-bills flying round behind 
us.’’ I kept my head perfectly still; nine times out 
of ten it’s moving your head that scares the ducks. 
In a moment I could see the blue-bills. There were 
6 
