520 The Water-fowl Family 



stop to shoot at smaller ducks. Or if you could, 

 there were bluebills by the score, rending the air 

 with stiff-set wing, widgeon pouring in with plain- 

 tive whistle, with wood-ducks filling up the chinks 

 in what was left of daylight. Yet the rush of 

 smaller wings in greater bunches, the incessant 

 whisking of teal between you and the bird, when 

 you raised it on some larger duck, made those 

 thrilling moments even more lovely. 



Here the green-wing is more of a substitute for 

 something better and, with the cinnamon teal, is at 

 times the only duck on which any shooting may be 

 had on some grounds. There are many small ponds 

 and chains of ponds, sloughs, etc., too small for the 

 other ducks to trust themselves on. Or if they 

 take the chances of being too near the shore, find 

 they have made a mistake and leave, there is lit- 

 tle use in sitting down to nurse a hope of their 

 return. But the teal, even when quite wild, does 

 not like to be driven from some favorite spot. 

 Suspicion is not enough for him, and he is quite 

 apt to return to look for certainty. If you are 

 well hidden, the flock may come whizzing back 

 upon you in two minutes. And even if it steers 

 far up into the sky, it does not follow that it will 

 be gone more than five minutes. And so deter- 

 mined is this little bird sometimes in the choice 

 of its ground that even when you are standing in 

 plain sight it will rush, dart, and twist all around 



