Water Fowl 55 



in. I can almost hear the hiss of their wings ; then 

 they turn and I watch their graceful movement and 

 am wondering what deflected them, when around they 

 whirl ; they see the decoys, turn, and literally drop out 

 of the sky in that splendid curve that I break, and take 

 what fortune and the morning wind has brought ; one 

 to the right, dropping it directly into the decoys, while 

 the flock, pounding the air, turns violently. I fire my 

 left directly over my head and see the duck coming 

 down on me. 



Probably every old duck hunter has had this experi- 

 ence, but it has occurred to me but once. I dodged, 

 and the heavy " sprig " came tumbling down, like a 

 meteorite dropping out of the sky, struck the edge 

 of the barrel, and rolled in at my feet. The flock has 

 swung around, passing over another blind on its way to 

 the sea again, and so is depleted as the white puffs 

 of smoke rise over the green. 



The sprig is the early bird in Southern California, 

 the first to come ; a fine big fellow, robed in black, 

 brown, and white, with scintillations of violet, gold, and 

 green. In the old days, or twenty years ago, before 

 California was invested, I have seen the waters of the 

 lagoons covered with them, while the adjacent lands 

 and mounds would be white with cranes and geese. 

 In those days the lagoons were no man's land ; duck 

 clubs were unknown, and there was good shooting in a 

 little lake south of Raymond Hill, Pasadena, in the foot- 

 hills after a rain, not to speak of the reservoirs. Then 



