A MORNING WITH NATURE, ETC. 247 



Where they all came from it was impossible to tell. 

 The air was full of them ; they came singly, in pairs, 

 and in flocks ; the very heavens seemed to be casting 

 out ducks. There was no hesitation on the arrival of 

 the new-comers ; this seemed to be the place they long 

 had sought. There was no timid circling to see if 

 danger lurked in the overhanging willows, and with 

 the utmost abandon they came down gracefully, lighting 

 upon the placid water. They came from every direction, 

 there appearing to be one constant deluge of living 

 feathers. A shining of green, white, slate, and purple 

 feathers. I close my eyes and see the sight even now. 

 In my imagination I see some old drake coming down 

 with bowed wings : down, down he comes until it seems 

 as if every bone in his body would be smashed by the 

 concussion with the water, such is the speed with which 

 he is descending ; when, perhaps thirty feet from the 

 water, he reverses his position, his head is elevated, his 

 neck is thrown into a graceful curve, his breast swells 

 out, his yellow feet extend before him, his wings flutter 

 swiftly, and, instead of meeting his doom, he gracefully 

 drops with a gentle splash among his waiting compan- 

 ions, who greet him with loud quackings of welcome, 

 which he acknowledges by a gentle, grating chuckle, and 

 a graceful nodding of his shining head. 



How quietly we laid behind the fallen log, and how 

 we enjoyed the weird, wild scene, to watch, unbeknown 

 to them, the ducks in their quiet midday retreat. It 

 seemed almost sacreligious to wantonly intrude on their 

 privacy, and ruthlessly drive them away from this quiet 

 place by loud reports and death-dealing guns. But we 

 were too practical to allow the romance of the situation 

 to influence our object in coining, and simultaneously 



