250 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 



Then again, an incomer, first deciding to light among 

 the decoys, then quickly changing her mind comes right 

 over us. This is the only time we shoot and kill, seeing 

 nothing at time of pulling the trigger. The duck 

 advances ; we aim at her ; she is coming directly over 

 us ; we draw on her breast, then her head ; the gun 

 keeps moving, then her bill is passed, and she is entirely 

 out of our sight. We know she is still coming, and 

 moving the gun a trifle further ahead, fire, and she falls 

 at our feet. 



Suddenly one passes over our heads unawares, we ac- 

 cidentally catch sight of it, when quickly it is high over 

 us, going away very fast. Hastily catching aim, we 

 fire fully two feet under it. The smoke bothers us ; we 

 cannot see whether or not we hit, — the drake is not fly- 

 ing away. We mark the direction ; see the golden leaves 

 fall in a tremulous manner to the ground, then see falling, 

 bounding with gentle concussion from limb to limb, a 

 bunch of brown chestnut, canvas, green, purple and 

 white, and we mark the spot where the dead drake lies. 



The flight of the birds had almost entirely stopped. 

 We sat in our blinds gazing listlessly at the fleeting 

 clouds, discussing the beauties of the morning, and ad- 

 miring the variegated scenery on all sides of us. 



Now the flight begins again, the ducks begin coming 

 back in great numbers. My companion was an inexperi- 

 enced hunter, and when I would make a double, his ad- 

 miration knew no bounds, and his compliments were 

 extravagant to a degree. He wasn't excitable. Oh, no ! 

 most beginners are not. Next to his seeing me kill them, 

 there was nothing he enjoyed more than shooting 

 cripples. When a duck struck the water and showed 

 the least inclination to prolong his life, bang ! would go 



