194 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 



what similar to a duck, but are strong and rank. It 

 doesn't add to the flavor by any means, that after the 

 flesh has been hastily masticated, and is carried with 

 the current of saliva down one's esophagus, that it leaves 

 in the mouth an unpleasant taste of both fish and mud. 



The only person I have really heard compliment them 

 was an amateur hunter who carried several of them 

 home, the result of his shooting, and ate them under 

 the impression they were young ducks, although he was 

 unable to acquaint his wife with the name of the species. 



They are familiar to every duck-shooter, and it is 

 unnecessary to describe them ornithologically. In the 

 fall of the year, in late summer, one has only to visit any 

 marshy, shallow place, where ducks in season frequent, 

 and these dark blue, slaty-black little fellows will be 

 seen in hundreds and thousands, their sharp white bills 

 so conspicuous, — like a wedge driven into their head. 

 They dislike flight, and will resort to every means of 

 hiding rather than to escape by flight. They are 

 strong swimmers and expert divers. For both purposes 

 nature has provided them abundantly, as their feet are 

 broad, legs long, and extend far back, in flight reaching 

 behind them like a stork's. Their food consists of 

 larvae, rice, but chiefly of tender roots, which they get 

 by diving down and tearing them from the mud. In 

 habits they are fraternal, and affiliate together in large 

 flocks, at times blackening the water, so plenty are 

 they. While voracious feeders, they enjoy a good 

 time, and some of them will wade out on shallow mud- 

 banks, or clamber up on musk-rat houses, and sit for 

 hours quietly dozing, while their companions in the 

 water are industriously feeding, sipping, chattering, and 

 uttering faint whistling sounds which are readily con- 



