WILD-FOWL OF WlLD-FoWL 



numbers. I have watched flocks of them that 

 extended in a solid mass for literally acres. They 

 are exceedingly shy, and though such a flock will 

 always rise a long distance away, the roar of the 

 many wings comes to one as the sound of thunder. 

 The flats about Monomoy Point are notable as the 

 great Brant -shooting ground of New England, 

 where the shy fowl are taken by means of shooting- 

 boxes sunk in the sandbars, which latter are often 

 artificially made for this purpose. A big string of 

 Brant at the depot or in the baggage-car is a familiar 

 sight. The Brant are also taken in the fall flight 

 in the various " cooting-lines " along the coast. I 

 have seen hordes of them there pass by, but they 

 almost invariably sheer off to sea, and go around 

 the end of the line, much to the disappointment of 

 the men in the boats. One day I certainly thought 

 that the Brant were about to violate their safe cus- 

 tom. A fine bunch were flying low, and coming 

 right for the boat next to mine. I fairly held my 

 breath, as I expect did the two men in that boat. 

 The Brant were within a hundred yards, and seemed 

 doomed, when some one fired a shot at a passing 

 Loon, and the Geese turned and went back. I 

 saw one of the men take off his cap and hurl it 

 down at the bottom of the boat in a rage. 



Another of the prime wild-fowl sights of such 

 bays as Chatham is the exit of the Oldsquaws at 

 sundown. They feed during the winter days up at 

 the head of the bay. To see or shoot them, one 

 should anchor in a skiff in the middle of some 

 narrow channel. At length there will come a con- 

 fused chorus of weird cries, resembling the music 



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