254 THE WILD DUCK 



And there is another species of the sport known 

 as "flight shooting," which has charms of its own 

 hardly inferior to that which I have just described. 

 Towards dusk, and, sometimes, for an hour or two 

 afterwards, it is the habit of the wild duck and 

 its fellow water fowl to leave the estuaries or the 

 open sheets of water where they have dozed away 

 the day, and to make for the fresh-water meadows, 

 or the running streams which are their happy 

 hunting-grounds by night. Then, if it be moon- 

 light, and, above all, if the ground be crisp, and 

 the more stagnant watercourses are iron-bound by 

 the severity of the frost, is the time and the place, 

 under the cover of some overhanging bush, 

 alongside of the swiftly flowing river, to take up a 

 " stand" and wait. You may " stand" there, no 

 doubt, and wait till your feet feel as if they were 

 glued to the ground, till your hands are so numbed 

 that you cannot feel your cartridges or your trigger, 

 much less as I well remember in the days of 

 muzzle, or, as one would rather call them, puzzle- 

 loaders, while you were fumbling helplessly in your 

 pockets distinguish your shot-belt from your 

 powder-flask, or your wads from your percussion 

 caps. But what a succession of sights and sounds 

 to reward the naturalist and the sportsman ! The 



