150 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 



are entirely lacking in the shrewdness and caution 

 displayed in the canvas-back and so frequently in the 

 red-head. The blue-bills are the little salts of the 

 open streams. Tough and hardy, loving rough and in- 

 clement -weather, they are found in the most turbulent 

 weather floating on the crested waves, bobbing up and 

 down with each swell, looking like big black corks, so 

 far out are they in the open water. They are restless 

 little fellows, and often fly without any definite idea of 

 what they are flying for, or where they are going to. 

 They simply like to be on the move, seemingly self- 

 appointed committees of investigation whose duties are 

 be on the go continuously. This is especially noticeable 

 on stormy days, or when the wind blows strong and 

 raw. On bright, warm, still days, when the sun beats 

 mildly on the calm water, the prevailing spirit of in- 

 dolence, so catching to human life, is contagious with 

 them, and they float idly on the surface of the open 

 lake, or are carried down by the swift flowing current 

 of some rapid river, huddled closely together in a black, 

 blue, and white mass of soft feathers, with their heads 

 hugging their breasts with quiet contentment. 



I have seen them this way i^^ the open Mississippi, 

 carried along with the current, first approaching, then 

 receding from the river bank, as the changing current 

 would swerve and turn from sand bars and ice. On, on, 

 they would float, until time and tide would bring them 

 near the habitation of man. They would see the houses 

 along the shores, hear the busy hum of life and activity, 

 the buzzing and rumbling of mills, — and away they go, 

 flying up stream for miles, then quickly drop into the 

 centre of the river, and float down as before. These 

 mancEuvres are common in the spring, just as the ice 



