DUCK SHOOTING IN AMERICA. 63 



after attending to his creature comforts, I was sta- 

 tioned in my blind, a few corn-stalks and grass 

 having been added to the withered, foliage of the 

 bush I had selected, the better to screen me ; further, 

 I had tied a bunch of prairie grass around my cap, 

 to assimilate it more to the color of the cheerless 

 landscape ; at my.feet was an old and true friend, a 

 setter, whose perfections in the hunting-field, or 

 retrieving by water I never saw excelled. At first 

 the sport was but languid, only an occasional duck 

 passing within range, so that after an hour only four 

 or five mallards had been brought to bag, but as the 

 day advanced and the weather became more inclem- 

 ent, I had less leisure to ruminate arid take note of the 

 passage of time. By four, p. M., the ball had opened 

 in earnest ; if I had had two guns and an attendant 

 to load, still they would not have been idle. First 

 come half a dozen mallards sweeping along in front 

 of the blast, the pace terrific ; about forty yards olF 

 they pass to the left ; with intuitive knowledge the 

 gun comes to the shoulder and eye, and at the correct 

 moment the triggers are pressed; good two yards in 

 front have I to shoot, arid my judgment is correct, 

 for a bird topples over to each report, while the sur- 

 vivors rush upward with unaltered speed, take a 



