Black Mallards 



were hidden in a tiny cove or bend of the shore, 

 and had it not been for their voices I would surely 

 have crept past without seeing them. At the 

 mouth of the cove was a single tussock, on which 

 stood the mother-duck, wavering between dreams 

 and watchfulness as the sunshine poured full upon 

 her, making her very sleepy. On the bare earth 

 beneath her the others were getting ready for a 

 nap, so near that I could see every motion, the 

 settling of a head, the blink of an eyelid. Occa- 

 sionally through the tangle of grass stems came the 

 penetrating gleam of their eyes, marvelously 

 bright eyes, alert and intelligent. 



For several minutes I held motionless, still flat 

 to the ground, listening to the sleepy talk, admiring 

 the mottled-brown plumage of a breast or the 

 bar of brilliant color drawn athwart a sooty wing. 

 All the while my nose was trying to get in a 

 warning word, telling me to give heed that the 

 ducky odor which flowed in waves over the whole 

 point was different from this strong reek, as of a 

 disturbed nest, in the near-by grass; but my eyes 

 were so occupied that I paid no attention to other 

 senses. As the duck on the tussock at last settled 

 down to sleep and I worked my toes into the earth 

 for a noiseless push forward, there was a slight 

 but startling motion almost at my shoulder. A 

 neck was raised and twisted sleepily, as if to get 



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