392 DUCK SHOOTING. 



coys and seized him, and in a few moments he was in 

 my hand, and I was smoothing out his plumage and 

 admiring the rich coloring of his head and neck, and 

 the wonderful delicacy of his back plumage. 



"Mark in front, high up," said John, before I had fin- 

 ished looking at the canvas-back. High up in the sky 

 to the south of us I saw a pair of black ducks, which, in 

 response to John's vigorous calls and to the invitation 

 offered by the live ducks, rapidly lowered their flight, 

 took a quarter circle to the west, and then coming down 

 to about 6 feet above the water flew confidently on 

 toward the blind, one about 2 feet behind the other. 

 I waited till they were over the last of the decoys, rose 

 to my feet and killed the first and then the second in 

 capital style. They did not see me and never knew 

 what had hit them. This was cheering. 



From this time on until it was time to take up I shot 

 fairly well — very well for me — and at night when we 

 returned to the house I had twenty-two ducks, and 

 believed that I had in some small measure effaced the 

 feeling of contempt that John — and Gunner — must 

 have for me. 



I had other hours in the blind during my trip, and in 

 some of them I did better than on this first day ; in none 

 worse, so far as missing went, though often I came in 

 with a less number of birds. 



Now and then, while we were sitting in the blind, 

 John and I would be joined by one of the club watch- 

 men, whose time is devoted to patrolling the marshes, 

 driving off poachers, preventing night shooting, and 



