OH, SHOOT! 



"You don't move while they're looking," 

 my informant told me. "When they rubber, 

 you hold your breath and, if religiously in- 

 clined, you pray. When they lower their 

 heads, you push the blind forward. A goose 

 is a poor judge of distance, and you can roll 

 right up to him if you know how." 



I didn't believe him ; but the next day I was 

 en route to North Carolina, and I have been 

 back there every year since. I have shot 

 from rolling blinds, stake blinds, and bat- 

 teries. Sometimes I have good luck, again I 

 do not. But nothing destroys my enjoyment, 

 and every trip is a success. Once I am away 

 with a gun on my arm, I become a nomad, a 

 Siwash; I return home only when my sense 

 of guilt becomes unbearable and when the 

 warmth of my wife's letters approaches zero. 



And I have done well down there. At first, 

 I went alone, traveled light, and spent little 

 money. Now I take friends with me ; I keep 

 a well-equipped hunting boat there the year 

 round; I stay a long time, and I spend sums 

 vastly larger than I can afford. A brace of 

 ducks used to cost me perhaps ten dollars, in 

 the raw; now they stand me several times 

 that, exclusive of general overhead. It shows 



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