BY INLAND WATERS 107 



quiet sheet of water, secluded and food-bearing. 

 Settlements are destructive both of large rotten 

 trees and secluded waters. The wood - ducks are 

 probably nesting farther north these days, and our 

 chances to see them are confined largely to the 

 migration periods. But, on the other hand, they 

 are easily domesticated, and any one with a bit of 

 pond or swamp in old woods could do worse than 

 rear a few. Whether they will go wild again I do 

 not know. Massachusetts has had little or no suc- 

 cess in trying to propagate mallards in order to 

 restock the streams and ponds, for the mallards 

 refuse to hear the call of the wild. Not long ago, 

 in a small stream behind my house, I saw two mal- 

 lards swimming along, and rushed, in great excite- 

 ment, to tell the news. To my chagrin, I found 

 they had come from a barn-yard a mile away and 

 would return to it at night. They did. A hunter 

 would hardly have been more tempted to shoot 

 one than he would to shoot a cow. 



The so-called black duck (so called, no doubt, 

 because it is distinctly brown) is still, I presume, 

 the duck most often seen on inland waters or even 

 on such marshes as those of Long Island. It winters 

 on Long Island, and it formerly bred, more or less, 

 in New York and New England, but now seeks, 

 like other birds that want to be let alone, the seclu- 

 sion of more northern waters. It is a smart duck, 

 hard to kill and wary of blinds, and its dietary ac- 

 tivities are extremely beneficent. I was always 

 impressed by the stomach of a black duck Doctor 

 Eaton killed near Canandaigua Lake, New York, 

 out of a flock returning from a flooded corn-field. 



