41 6 DUCK SHOOTING. 



a wedge of seven birds that flew over, 200 or 300 yards 

 distant, and that were slowly lowering themselves 

 toward the waters of the sound, I saw one bird help 

 himself along by means of another. The last swan on 

 one arm of the V seemed higher than the others, which 

 were close in front of him, and with a quick stroke or 

 two he overtook the bird immediately before him, 

 caught his tail feathers in his bill, and, bending his 

 neck, pulled his own breast close to the tail of the other 

 bird, whose progress seemed absolutely stopped. Then 

 the last bird let go the tail and they all went on. It 

 looked as if the last bird had used the other to pull him- 

 self down to its level, being himself too impatient to 

 wait for the slower descent of flight. The occurrence 

 seemed to me to be a remarkable one, and called up to 

 my mind the old story of little birds crossing the Medi- 

 terranean on the backs of owls, geese and cranes, and 

 the story, related years ago in Forest and Stream by 

 Dr. J. C. Merrill, of the "Crane's Back" of the Crow 

 Indians. 



All day long the gray clouds have hung low over the 

 waters, and occasionally the sad heavens have dropped 

 down their rains, which the winds have thrown spite- 

 fully against us. Now, however, just at the close of 

 the day, the broad orb of the sun looks out at us from 

 the western sky just as it is falling below the horizon. 

 Slowly it sinks until only a thin red line is visible above 

 the low. distant forest which bounds the view to the 

 west. I take a last, long look about me to see if perhaps 

 a duck will come before the sun has actually set ; but. 



