26 The Water-fowl Family 



come the northern hordes. When October ripens 

 the wild grain, countless thousands gather in the 

 rice fields. On the larger marshes, any point on 

 the feeding-grounds affords a blind. Early morn- 

 ing and evening are the moving times. With the 

 first streaks of dawn you paddle along the reed- 

 grown shore. The feeding-grounds are marked 

 by the frequent clamor of resting birds. Now 

 the loud quacking of mallard is answered by a 

 flock overhead, and you see a faint line in the 

 dim light and hear the swish of wings. Soon 

 some ducks take wing, startled by the presence of 

 the boat, and the noise and clatter they make in 

 getting under way start hundreds. The air is 

 filled with reverberating wings ; you can hardly 

 wait to reach the point where broken grass and 

 sedge afford sufficient cover for the skiff. On 

 each side is a considerable expanse of open water. 

 It is now light enough to shoot if the birds come 

 close, and hardly a minute before a dark line 

 appears, looking black and large, against the 

 yellow background of beginning day. They are 

 closer than you thought, and are out of range 

 almost before you break the silence of morning 

 with the first shot. Frightened ducks fill the air, 

 circle, and lead in all directions. A bunch of 

 birds lighter than the others heads toward your 

 point ; alert at the first motion in the grass as you 

 slowly raise the gun, they flare up into the air, all 



