IN THE WILD RICE FIELDS. 355 



can fly. The shooting must be quick, yet the man who 

 flatters himself that he is a quick shot in the brush will 

 miss almost all his birds. There is required, for suc- 

 cess, a mingling of quickness and deliberation, and a 

 knowledge of how to hold on the ducks, which is only to 

 be attained by much practice. As a rule, those birds 

 which, when alarmed, strive to rise straight up in the 

 air, like the mallard, the black duck, the widgeon and 

 the teals, are more easily killed than straight-flying 

 birds, such as canvas-backs, redheads and bluebills, 

 which, no matter what they may see to alarm them, do 

 not alter their course, but merely fly the faster. The 

 bird which checks its onward flight and tries to rise 

 higher — which flares, as it is termed — can be overtaken 

 and passed by the muzzle of the gun, which is not al- 

 ways the case with the darting, diving ducks. 



A gunner of great experience, whose advice is well 

 worth taking, and who is very skillful at these swift- 

 flying overhead birds, states that, rising to his feet well 

 before the bird gets to him, he aims at the point of the 

 bill, and, following the bird until it is nearly, but not 

 quite, above him, he then moves the gun a little for- 

 ward and pulls the trigger. The bags which this man 

 makes confirm his statement that this is a good way to 

 hold on these overhead birds. 



A stirring account of the abundance of the wildfowl 

 in the wild rice fields of the West, thirty years ago, is 

 given in an article from the graphic pen of Mr. T. S. 

 Van Dyke, contributed a dozen years ago to the col- 

 umns of Forest and Stream, from which the paragraphs 



