WINTER PICTURES 



down their feet to alight, he is expected to spring up 

 and pour his broadside into them. A boat from 

 shore comes and picks up the game, if there is any 

 to pick up. 



The club-man, .by common consent, was the first 

 in the box that morning ; but only a few ducks 

 were moving, and he had lain there an hour before 

 we marked a solitary bird approaching, and, after 

 circling over the decoys, alighting a little beyond 

 them. The sportsman sprang up as from the bed 

 of the river, and the duck sprang up at the same 

 time, and got away under fire. After a while my 

 other companion went out ; but the ducks passed by 

 on the other side, and he had no shots. In the after- 

 noon, remembering the robins, and that robins are 

 game when one's larder is low, I set out alone for 

 the pine bottoms, a mile or more distant. When 

 one is loaded for robins, he may expect to see tur- 

 keys, and vice versa. As I was walking carelessly 

 on the borders of an old brambly field that stretched 

 a long distance beside the pine woods, I heard a 

 noise in front of me, and, on looking in that direc- 

 tion, saw a veritable turkey, with a spread tail, leap- 

 ing along at a rapid rate. She was so completely 

 the image of the barnyard fowl that I was slow to 

 realize that here was the most notable game of 

 that part of Virginia, for the sight of which sports- 

 men's eyes do water. As she was fairly on the wing, 

 I sent my robin-shot after her ; but they made no 

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