Duck-shooting 59 



ing the arroyo half a mile beyond. In a short 

 time our capacity for ducks was exhausted; we 

 had almost more than we could carry on horse- 

 back, and we turned toward home. It was very 

 interesting to follow along this weird place, and 

 see how close we could get to unsuspecting birds. 

 In one instance I watched a flock of twenty or 

 thirty gadwall and teal nearly half an hour, hardly 

 more than thirty feet from the spot where I lay in 

 the grass, peering over the bank. They preened 

 themselves, unsuspecting, and dabbled in the shal- 

 low water, occasionally uttering contented notes, 

 but, at the slightest motion, were alert and ready 

 to spring. In another instance I noticed a pair of 

 ruddy ducks in a small pool scarcely a foot in 

 depth. It seemed to be a good chance to force 

 a diver to his wings, and I ran down the steep 

 bank almost on to them. They just settled out 

 of sight in the water, and never appeared. How 

 they ever dived out of that puddle is beyond my 

 understanding, and my esteem for a ruddy duck's 

 sleight of diving was greater than ever. It was 

 early afternoon when we wended our way back to 

 the ranch, where a pitcher of coffee and a plate 

 of tortillas went but a little way toward appeasing 

 a Mexican appetite. 



