246 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 



flock did the same, then another, and still another. 

 That settled it. I knew they were dropping in on their 

 feeding ground. I marked the place, although fully a 

 mile from us ; crossed the river, and, throwing the de- 

 coys over our backs, we started for the ducks. It was 

 a mystery to my companion how we were to find them, 

 since nothing was to be seen, except a dense forest of 

 trees ; but I had marked they were lighting directly 

 west of two large oak trees, how far of course I could 

 not guess. Going directly to these trees, we started 

 due west, and soon heard the anticipated quack. Con- 

 tinuously moving forward, we caught a glimpse of the 

 pond, where they were enjoying their midday picnic. 

 Such a sight ! The pond covered about four acres, 

 and to this time, the ducks were in complete possession 

 and control of it. They were scattered in bunches, 

 ranging in numbers from three to fifty, all mallards. 

 Some with heads hidden underneath their wings were 

 floating serenely, and dreaming idly of what ducks 

 usually dream ; others were preening themselves, now 

 rising on their feet and fluttering their wings, while 

 great drops of water were shaken from their shining 

 bodies ; still others were swimming to and fro, advanc- 

 ing and receding as if to form a better acquaintance 

 with their neighbors. On the banks some sat idly, 

 half asleep, basking in the warm sun, while near them 

 their companions were tipping up in the shallow water, 

 performing acrobatic feats. First their glossy green heads 

 with their plump bodies would be on the surface, then 

 presto ! their heads would disappear and their white 

 and purple tails would point upward, while their bills 

 were hidden under water and mud, searching for the 

 ever welcome acorn. 



