PEPACTON 



ducks, each anchored by a small weight that was 

 attached by a cord to the breast, bowed and sidled 

 and rode the water, and did everything but feed, 

 in a bed many yards long. The shooting-box is a 

 kind of coffin, in which the gunner is interred amid 

 the decoys, buried below the surface of the water, 

 and invisible, except from a point above him. The 

 box has broad canvas wings, that unfold and spread 

 out upon the surface of the water, four or five feet 

 each way. These steady it, and keep the ripples 

 from running in when there is a breeze. Iron decoys 

 sit upon these wings and upon the edge of the box, 

 and sink it to the required level, so that, when 

 everything is completed and the gunner is in posi- 

 tion, from a distance or from the shore one sees 

 only a large bed of ducks, with the line a little more 

 pronounced in the centre, where the sportsman 

 lies entombed, to be quickly resurrected when the 

 game appears. He lies there stark and stiff upon 

 his back, like a marble effigy upon a tomb, his gun 

 by his side, with barely room to straighten himself 

 in, and nothing to look at but the sky above him. 

 His companions on shore keep a lookout, and, 

 when ducks are seen on the wing, cry out, "Mark, 

 coming up," or " Mark, coming down," or, " Mark, 

 coming in," as the case may be. If they decoy, the 

 gunner presently hears the whistle of their wings, or 

 maybe he catches a glimpse of them over the rim 

 of the box as they circle about. Just as they let 

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