136 UPLAND SHOOTING. 



Lake, Ruthven, Iowa. My old friend, Frank Xicoulin, 

 and myself, got up at 3 o'clock in the morning, to take 

 the early train on the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul 

 Railway for Ruthven, thirty-five miles west of where we 

 live. We went to our depot, and sat there three long 

 hours waiting for a * ' freight train. " It came at last, but 

 we did not get to Ruthven till after 9 o'clock. We went 

 down to the lake, and found but few ducks there. The 

 wind was southeast, and blowing very strong. We sat 

 down on the pass, and concluded that shooting would not 

 be very good that day. We looked up toward Lost 

 Island Lake, which is situated about three or four miles 

 northwest of Elbow Lake. We noticed some ducks in 

 the air. Soon a stray flock came down against the wind. 

 They went over Frank, and he shot a pair of canvas- 

 backs. He is a sure shot, and any duck that comes 

 within range of his gun is almost sure to fall. 



Other flocks followed, and soon almost a stream of 

 ducks was pouring into Elbow Lake. The wind blew so 

 hard that they flew very low. Canvas-backs, red- heads, 

 and blue-bills came in in thousands. The lake was full 

 of wild celery, the favorite food of the deep-water ducks. 

 There were times that day when I saw more ducks than 

 I ever saw at one time before. I shot into one flock of 

 canvas-backs, and seven of the handsome birds fell with 

 the first barrel. We had two fine retrieving dogs with 

 us, and we gave them all they could do for five hours. 



Between 1 2 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon, Frank got 

 a shell stuck in his gun, and could not move it. We 

 worked at it over half an hour, and finally Frank had to 

 go to town to get the shell taken out. 



Just before he started it began to rain, and I told him 

 to send down a team for the ducks, as I do not care much 

 to shoot in the rain. I did not shoot much after Frank 

 went to town, but gathered the ducks and counted them. 



