WILD LIFE IN WINTER. 299 



" What ! " said the man ; " have I lived all these 

 years to be taken for a fool? When I want to 

 know anything about ducks I'll ask you." 



" Is your gun loaded ? " 



" No, it is not, and I don't intend to act the fool by 

 loading it for fancy ducks." 



By this time we had reached the pond. Up sprang 

 the ducks, a beautiful sight, right and left, just in 

 front of us. The way that man scratched and 

 fumbled for cartridges was amusing ; but it was to 

 no purpose, the ducks were gone. Then he be- 

 stowed titles upon himself which would have made 

 him wroth enough if they had come from some one 

 else. 



During the bitterly cold season the few swimmers 

 and waders about had a rough time of it. Ducks, 

 moor-hens, and coots crept up any runnel that was 

 supplied from a warm spring. The smallest patch of 

 open weed-covered swamp was a boon beyond price. 

 The poor herons came to grief. They are conspicu- 

 ous birds at all times on the wing, and when the 

 ground is covered with snow, and the thick withered 

 flags with furry hoar-frost besides, he shows up very 

 plainly when he settles. His craving stomach also 



