Duck-shooting 35 



more and the sloop disappears, leaving me with 

 Uncle Dan. "We'll take the single box and go 

 to Hospital." 



Hospital Point lay to the east a mile, and we 

 started for it in a good-sized punty, towing a single 

 battery behind. It was slow going, but in time 

 we were there. The only scenery so far was mist. 

 We anchored the battery about two hundred 

 yards off the point, on a shallow bar. It is 

 weighted down close to the level of the water by 

 heavy iron decoys ; then we set the stool, a few 

 behind, but the large body in front ; and when the 

 last decoy is thrown out, standing a gunshot off, 

 it is hardly possible to realize we aren't in front 

 of a big raft of ducks. " Get in ; you won't wait 

 long ; I'll pick up the birds from the point beyond ; 

 keep in the box and keep down," and old Dan 

 pushed himself out of sight. Left alone by my 

 tender, I stretched out, and soon came to the con- 

 clusion there are few things harder than a hard- 

 wood floor, not a cushion or pillow or anything else, 

 and finally I wrapped my coat around a decoy ; 

 this serves as a prop and helps a bit. It is still 

 foggy, but a light breeze is rolling up the banks 

 of mist, and except for this, it is light enough 

 to shoot. Now the first birds of the morning 

 come in sight, a great mass far out over the bay. 

 Flying in undulating line, they appear high over 

 the water, and the next minute are out of sight 



