DUCK-SHOOTING. 261 
Having ascertained by several ineffectual shots 
that they were far out of range, we watched them 
with delight and curiosity, wondering whence they 
could all come, and whither they were going. There 
was no abatement or pause till the increasing dark- 
ness shut them out from our sight. Had we been 
prepared with Ely’s wire cartridge we could have 
rained destruction among them, but as it was we 
only killed a few chance birds; and then reassem- 
bling our party where the open lead joined the bay, 
we returned to the club-house together. 
The next day being clear and still, it was devoted 
to fishing and exploring. A Kentuckian who was 
famong our numbers, having no fishing in his own 
State, and knowing nothing of salmon or striped- 
bass, and little of trout, was devoted to black-bass fish- 
ing. Persuading the writer to go in the boat with 
him, while two friends accompanied us in another, 
we crossed the bay, and having fastened large Buel’s 
spoons to the end of stout hand-lines, proceeded to 
troll in the most primitive manner. 
The bass were plentiful, and rushing from their 
lairs in the weeds close to the shore, darted out 
after the boat had passed, and devoured our baits. 
Although quite large, they gave feeble play, turning 
over and over in the water, and rarely jumping with 
the vigor of fish brought up in cooler latitudes; in 
fact, the river and lake bass differ so greatly as to 
seem almost to belong to different species. The river 
fish, which lie in the discolored water where long 
weeds grow from a bottom of deep mud, are yellow 
