overhead in the darkness, has not questioned by 



what 



. . . plashy brink 

 Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, 



Or where the rocking billows rise and sink 

 On the chafed ocean-side, 



they will find rest? 



In winter, when a heavy southeast wind is 

 blowing, the tides of Delaware Bay are high and 

 the waters very rough. Then the ducks that 

 feed along the reedy flats of the bay are driven 

 into the quieter water of the creeks, and at 

 night fly into the marshes, where they find safe 

 beds in the "salt-holes." 



The salt-holes are sheets of water having no 

 outlet, with clean perpendicular sides as if cut 

 out of the grassy marsh, varying in size from a 

 few feet wide to an acre in extent. The sedges 

 grow luxuriantly around their margins, making 

 a thick, low wall in winter, against which the 

 winds blow in vain. If a bird must sleep in the 

 water, such a hole comes as near to being a per- 

 fect cradle as anything could be, short of the 

 bottom of a well. 



The ducks come in soon after dark. You 

 can hear the whistle of their wings as they pass 

 [42] 



