The Water-fowl of the Pacific Coast 5 1 7 



stirring your nerves again. And you need hardly 

 wait until dark to see any more come pouring in. 

 There are places where there will be some flight 

 in the evening, but in many others silence broods 

 more deeply as the sky reddens in the west. Yet, 

 when the first scouts of dawn plant their golden 

 standards on the peaks of granite in the east, if 

 you are well hidden, you may often find the mal- 

 lard in a hurry to go to or from the water, and 

 not quite so particular about his line of flight. 

 Sometimes he has been out feeding on the grass 

 or in the grain-fields, and is in haste to rest his 

 legs in the cool water, while in other places this 

 may be the very time when he will scud away to 

 feed along the shore inlets, or even go out to sea 

 for a change. 



In size, color, and general habits the mallard of 

 this coast hardly differs from his cousin of the 

 prairies. Like all of the most wary animals he 

 is sometimes caught napping; but, on the whole, 

 is now a bird that commands the respect of every 

 one who loves the gun, as beautiful as he is shy, 

 and one of the brightest of the great tribe of 

 the wild and free. 



THE SPOONBILL 



In spite of its rich soil and warm sun this coast 

 cannot compare with the prairie states in turning 

 out fat ducks. There is no feed to equal wild 



