MID-DAY MALLARD SHOOTING FALL. 155 



hurry with your first bird, for fear the second 

 one would get away. There was no need of that, 

 for after you had fired both barrels he was 

 not forty yards from you. Take plenty of time 

 with your first barrel; let the second be the 

 snap-shot, if either— but neither, if you can help 

 it. I sec, though, to-day you are not one of the 

 kind to get discouraged because of an occasional 

 miss. Why, on the day when I did my poor 

 shooting here, I was standing in this very blind 

 and eating my lunch— my partner, whom I will 

 call Ned, was in your position— when a single 

 mallard duck came into the slough, low down, 

 intending to light within thirty feet of me. 1 

 jumped up, rather too quickly, perhaps, and fired ; 

 not a feather was touched, as I could see. Then 

 the second barrel more carefully, as 1 thought, 

 but no game. Ned laughed rather immoderately, 

 it seemed to me, as the duck flew directly towards 

 him, and, taking aim very deliberately, he fired; 

 the duck certainly was not ten yards away, and 1 

 expected to sec it literally blown to pieces ; but 

 no, it simply changed the direction of its course. 

 I looked at Ned, who appeared a trifle more se- 

 rious, and was taking aim again with a determined, 

 bloodthirsty expression of countenance. Bang went 



