84 “COME DUCK SHOOTING WITH ME” 
air. Once they found a place to suit and alighted in the 
water our chance for a shot was over. Again they 
circled, coming a trifle nearer. Jimmy gave them the 
mallard feed call. They half circled once more and 
then came directly over us all scattered out, high in air. 
They had no apparent intention of coming closer and 
Jimmy gave the word, ‘‘Now.’’ Four shots rang out. 
It really looked like a miss at first, then one crumpled in 
the air and fell. Two others seemed in trouble; one of 
them gave up suddenly and came down like a stone, 
while the other fell on a long slant too far out to chase 
after. The first cripple we had lost that day. I hate 
to lose cripples. 
I lighted another match and started my pipe while 
Jimmy trudged off after the farthest canvasback. He 
wasn’t over a hundred yards away when three spoonbills 
started up from the western raft of ducks and headed 
straight for the decoys. They evidently came on busi- 
ness. Not a single turn or circle did they make but 
came in handsomely over the farthest decoys. The 
double gun spoke twice and dropped a right and left. 
The first shot was at a slow flying bird getting ready to 
alight. The second bird was a fast quarterer. Jimmy 
looked round and waved his hat when he saw the ducks 
falling. 
The bunch of redheads and canvasbacks east of us, 
frightened by the shooting, made off, without our getting 
a shot at them. They got away while we were busy 
shooting, without our even seeing them go. The big 
raft toward the west was disintegrating rapidly. 
The ducks were flying southwest towards Land’s End, 
a distant section of the marsh where few shooters 
went, it was so far away. Nothing more came to our 
decoys for some time. We could only sit quietly and 
