CHAPTER II 

 THE OLD DECOY 



The heart of the woodland — A neglected covert — Where the pool once 

 stood — A mighty reed-bed — -The decoy ditches — A forgotten quince 

 tree — How the decoy was worked — The decoy ducks — The dog and 

 its business — The capture — Some great takes of wildfowl — Ancient 

 duck -driving — 4,000 fowl bagged — A Mexican method — Value of 

 decoys — Fritton and its income — Present British decoys — Former 

 plenty — A vanishing system. 



IT lies — neglected, unknown, forgotten — in the heart 

 of a patch of woodland, no great way from the sea, 

 what was once a good and profitable decoy — the pride 

 of the squire on whose estate it existed, and the joy of 

 the decoy-man's heart. Its glories are gone with the 

 legions of wildfowl which once made this countryside 

 their home, flighting over the flat marshes to and fro 

 between the shore-line and the decoy pool. The neigh- 

 bouring villagers still call the place the '"Coy," but 

 even the oldest of them can now scarce recall the time 

 when the decoy was in use and working order. Where 

 once was heard the clangour of hundreds of water- 

 fowl, silence now reigns. For some reason the covert 

 is neglected. Once or twice during the winter a few 

 beaters force their way through with infinite difficulty 

 — for the place is sadly overgrown — and drive out a 

 score or so of wild pheasants to the guns ; but for the 

 rest, foxes, the few pheasants, a woodcock now and 

 again, and in the spring and summer numbers of 

 singing birds, have the undergrowth to themselves. 



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