322 DUCK SHOOTING. 



from water to water, and about 40 feet above the sur- 

 face of the water at the summit of the ridge. There 

 was a Hght wind moving, and the water was rippled 

 and moving, so that we could see no ducks at first. As 

 we drove down nearer to the bank we caught sight of 

 thousands of black, bobbing figures, all over the whole 

 face of the waters. In shore, and now not over a few 

 hundreds of yards from us, there rested upon the bars 

 literally a black mass of ducks, thousands upon thou- 

 sands. This is not the enthusiasm of a man who has 

 never seen many birds before, but is the literal and calm 

 truth. I never in my life have seen so great a body of 

 wildfowl at one time. Soon the birds began to soar up 

 and circle blackly about, and in time the air was dark 

 with a countless multitude of circling, twisting and 

 turning fowl, each bunch with a different direction 

 from the others. It was enough to drive one crazy. 



Neither Bowers nor Gokey showed any signs of los- 

 ing his mind, though I feared for the Chief. For my 

 own part, I have a vague recollection that I stood upon 

 one foot while the team was being turned out and the 

 deliberate preparations made for the hunt. 



"Take plenty of shells," was about all the advice 

 Warden Bowers had to offer. "You'll need them all, 

 for you won't kill every shot." 



So we took each a back load and hurried off to the 

 pass over which the birds were streaming. We had 

 been told that on this pass, no matter what the weather, 

 the ducks fly all day long. This we did not believe, but 

 set down as "ag'in natur'." Yet we found it true this 



