and the Maritime Provinces. 147 



coot, or velvet duck, Mclanctta velvetina, and the common scoter, or coot, 

 CEdemia Americana. All these birds are fishing-ducks, and their habits 

 are in many ways similar. In shooting them gunners form a line of some- 

 times fifteen or twenty boats, which are anchored about two or three gun- 

 shots apart in localities where the coots are known to pass. Each boat has 

 a number of wooden decoys anchored near it, and the birds are shot as 

 they come to these decoys. If the coot is wounded, it dives to the bottom 

 where it clings to sea-weeds until it dies. In my opinion, a common error 

 made by gunners is in the use of too heavy shot. Lighter pellets make 

 smaller wounds, which instantly close and prevent the bird from obtaining 

 the relief from the flow of blood in its vitals, which is afforded by the 

 heavier shot. * 



* I cannot refrain from adding the following on the scoters, written 

 by Herbert L. Spinney, and published in the Maine Sportsman, May, 

 1897. — E. A. S. 



" All along our coast are sunken rocks, some of which appear at low 

 tide, while others are always covered with water from ten to fifty feet deep. 

 On these submerged rocks grows a bivalve, known as 'mussels.' These 

 occur in vast numbers, and form the principal article of food of the scoter 

 ducks. To obtain these, the ducks dive, and tear them from the rocks. 

 The observations of which I shall speak have been made between the east 

 boundary of Sheepscott bay and the west of Casco bay, but I think they 

 will apply to all the Maine coast at the present time. If we would observe 

 the habits of these birds we must make our preparations the night before, 

 which will consist of a good rowboat, and a dozen decoys, made of wood 

 and painted black, or small buoys painted the same color will do very 

 well, especially if it be in the fall, and an anchor and line to hold the boat 

 in position. Having made these preparations, and having located the bed- 

 ding ground which we wish to visit, we will wait for morning. My experi- 

 ence has been that these nights are at least forty-eight hours long, but, 

 like everything else, they come to an end. 



" As it is three a. m., and we have some three orfive miles to row, if we 

 want to be on the shoal by daylight, we must start. It is a quiet morning 

 in May. Not a ripple disturbs the surface of the water. All nature seems 

 quiet, unless the frogs from some small ponds may be heard singing their 

 plaintive chorus, or occasionally the chirp of a small bird awakened from 

 its night's repose by some intruder. As we step into our boat and leave 

 the shore, how the sounds vibrate and echo on the quiet morning air ! 

 These are mornings never to be forgotten. As we row along, day-dawn 

 begins to appear, the robin is heard from some tree-top, singing — for 

 rain, we should say, if it be a cloudy morning. Soon the song sparrow is 

 heard, and now the world in general seems waking up. But here we are 

 on the grounds, and we must get our decoys out. These are all fastened 

 two or three feet apart, to one long line, by a short line from each decoy, 

 called a ' lanyard.' On one end of this main line we will tie a rock to hold 

 the whole on the bed, and after the decoys are all in the water we will 

 bring the last end up in line with the first, so as to form a half circle, and 



