120 “COME DUCK SHOOTING WITH ME” 
I would let him down easy so I said, ‘You have come to 
a poor place for your business; Sam Black don’t read 
much and I have one at home.’ 
‘“*One what?’ asked the professor. 
‘“‘Why, a bible,’ I replied. ‘You said you were a 
professor of biology; ain’t you selling the bibles you 
carry in that big heavy trunk?’ 
‘‘The professor laughed. ‘You didn’t understand 
me,’ he said; ‘“‘biology’’ means the ‘‘science of life.”’ 
I am sent here from Washington by the government to 
find the reason why all the ducks died last year.’ 
““*Oh, is that it?’ I said. ‘Why, they think now the 
ducks all died from precipitates, or some such word, that 
fell in the water from the smoke from the mills of the 
big copper mines. Do you think such a thing possible?’ 
‘**No,’ he answered. ‘I don’t. The ducks sent to 
us had all the symptoms of alkali poison. Our theory 
is that, now there are more farmers on Bear River and 
consequently more water is taken out of the river for 
irrigation during the growing season, a goodly portion 
of the two lakes, that formerly were covered with water, 
goes dry during the summer. The alkali constantly 
works to the surface and as there is not enough water, 
to carry it off, dries there. ‘Then when the rains come, 
the rain water becomes so saturated with alkali that 
it poisons the ducks and marshbirds wholesale.’ 
‘‘“That’s a curious, though reasonable explanation,’ 
I told him. 
‘“““Ves,’ he said, ‘but did you ever know that shot 
will kill a duck?’ 
‘“““Why, yes, I knew that,’ I said, ‘I have shot enough 
ducks to be acquainted with that fact . . .’”—‘‘Keep 
down,’’ I whispered, ‘‘here comes a mallard.’’ The 
mallard came fast, just above the tops of the tules. He 
