36 The Water-fowl Family 



in a fog bank. A number of little strings follow. 

 This keeps up a few minutes^ when a splash in 

 front causes me to turn a single old squaw sits 

 among the stool, embarrassed and confused; I 

 have no use for old squaws, and finally it paddles 

 out, leaving with a grunt of disgust. Broadbill 

 are leading now just outside, and soon a flock 

 of four swerve off and head for the decoys. In 

 the light of sunrise they look black and big, 

 right at the edge of the stool, on wings set, they 

 slope in, an easy mark ; and as the smoke clears 

 only two depart. The reports resounding over 

 the bay start a multitude of ducks ; rising high, 

 they break up into countless numbers of little 

 bunches, always a promising sign. Presently 

 eight come in and leave three two as the flock 

 swings in line, the third before they recover. A 

 pair and then four more ; broadbill seem every- 

 where, and come in thick and fast, so far all from 

 the right direction, straight in front. A booming 

 far to the east, four guns often at once, marks the 

 position of the double battery, and a cloud of 

 ducks in sight over the horizon in the same direc- 

 tion indicates the others are busy. The pleasant 

 feature of my position is that the water is so 

 shallow that I can pick up my own birds, and 

 soon the limited quarters of the box are filled. 

 With the exception of a single red-head, they are 

 all broadbill. A large flock in front and I hurry 



