IN THE LANDAFF VALLEY 221 



may my curse follow the man that shoots 

 him. 



The " si^ectacular duck," of which I have 

 spoken, was one of several (three or more) 

 that seemed to be settled in the valley of the 

 Landaff River. Our first sight of them was 

 on the 20th; two birds, flying low and call- 

 ing, but in so bewildering a light, and so 

 quick in passing, that we ventured no guess 

 as to their identity. Three days later, on 

 the morning of the 23 d, we had hardly 

 turned into the valley before we heard the 

 same low, short-breathed, grimting, grating, 

 croaking sounds, and, glancing upward, saw 

 three ducks steaming up the course of the 

 river. This time, as before, the sun was 

 against us, but my companion, luckier than 

 I with his glass, saw distinctly that they 

 carried a white speculum or wing-spot. 



We were still discussing possibilities, sup- 

 posing that the birds themselves were clean 

 gone, when suddenly (we could never tell 

 how it happened) we saw one of them — still 

 on the wing — not far before us ; and even 

 as we were looking at it, wondering where it 

 had come from, it flew toward the old grist- 



