230 GAME BIRDS OF NORTH AMERICA. 



and are daily joined by large flocks of their companions from the 

 north. In a few days these flocks become of immense size, con- 

 sisting of thousands, which are now joined by a few Scoters. The 

 duck shooters begin to prepare for the sport. The boat ordi- 

 narily used in this duck-shooting is flat-bottomed, twelve to 

 thirteen feet long and about thirty inches wide, decked over, and 

 with a combing around the cockpit, which is just large enough to 

 accommodate one person. The white- winged coots and loons 

 soon commence to arrive and mingle with the others, which have 

 now moved nearer to the shore. Every morning these large flocks 

 scatter, and in small numbers, from two or three to a dozen indi- 

 viduals, fly up the Sound toward the west. They continue to fly 

 in the same direction until about ten or eleven o'clock ; all then 

 settle, and scarcely any birds are flying until two o'clock in the 

 afternoon, when all commence flying back again, the flocks being 

 larger than in the morning flight. 



Imagine a party of sportsmen just formed for the first shoot of 

 the season. The boats are all collected on the shore near some 

 favorite shooting ground, ready to start out the next morning at 

 the very first streak of daylight. 



The party retire to some neighboring barn and beguile the long 

 hours of the night with stories and joyous thoughts of to-morrow's 

 sport ; or, at home, roll uneasily in bed, longing for the next morn- 

 ing. No bell is needed to call them at the first signs of day. Many 

 eyes have been eagerly watching for it. The boats now start out, 

 so that all may be ready before it is light and the birds have begun 

 to fly. Upon reaching the desired location, one man throws out 

 his anchor, another rows about twenty rods beyond him and an- 

 chors also, and in this way the boats are all disposed of, reaching 

 far out into the Sound in a straight line. Golden streaks are fast 

 springing up from the eastern horizon, lighting up the water, which 

 is moving in long gentle swells, and the beautiful bluish haze, so 

 characteristic of the cool autumn morning, with enchanting reflec- 

 tions. The ducks are now beginning to fly, and the noise of their 

 wings, brought clearly over the water, sends a thrill through every 

 gunner's nerves. The shooting will soon begin. There comes a 

 pair of white-winged ducks, heading directly for the fine. They 

 must pass between some two boats, and every eye anxiously 



