DUCK SHOOTING IN AMERICA. 65 



with a loud quack, quack, frequently so close at 

 hand that you start, almost believing that one of 

 your victims has come to life. But hark ! what is 

 that honk ! honk ! Geese ! I can't go till I dust 

 some of their jackets. As none of all the web- 

 footed tribe are so wary, extra precaution is 

 necessary. At length you see a massive dark line 

 against the sole clear portion of northern sky 

 remaining. Would that heavier shot were in my 

 gun. Onward they come, slowly and cautiously; 

 waiting till they are nearly perpendicular ? I play 

 my part, and the heavy splash on one side and 

 thud on the other clearly states that two are down, 

 one in the water* and the other on shore. With 

 such a finale you cease, nor is it too soon, for I 

 really believe that if you were to remain after dark- 

 ness you might receive an injury, as the birds, no 

 longer dreading a foe, rush about in the most reck- 

 less way, that I have felt quite a relief at getting 

 out of the marsh without a mallard going at express 

 speed coming in contact with my cranium. On the 

 night in question twenty-eight brace of ducks, two 

 geese, and three brant was the bag good sport, as 

 all must agree, for three or four hours' shooting. 



