BAY BIRD SHOOTING 289 



bay birds, are set up a short distance from the place 

 of ambush, usually at the edge of the water, some of 

 them in the shoal water, others on a likely little bar or 

 feeding-place. Considerable skill is displayed in set- 

 ting them so that they resemble a lot of birds, natu- 

 rally spaced and posed as if feeding. 



The sail down the bay in a boat moved by a sum- 

 mer breeze is delightful. As the sportsman listens to 

 the waves splashing against the prow and breathes the 

 salt air, his eyes rest upon the broad marshes, beauti- 

 ful in tones of yellow, olive, and Venetian red, which 

 stretch away to the horizon, where they blend with the 

 diminutive summer clouds floating in an azure sky. 

 There are a few hay-stacks. There is a cabin here 

 and there, a picturesque fish-reel, and the tall, slim 

 light-house gleams white like the passing sails. Pres- 

 ently the bay-man exclaims : " Mark ! Dowitch ! " and 

 as a matter of habit, ducks his head and begins to 

 whistle in imitation of the notes of the dowitchers or 

 red-breasted snipe, or it may be the loud shrill. Whew ! 

 Whew ! Whew ! in one, two, three order, should the 

 birds be the noisy tattlers, the yellow-legs. A bunch 

 of birds flying closely together is seen far out over the 

 beach, moving to a feeding ground. There is no dan- 

 ger of the birds coming within range, however. They 

 know the gun too well. The bay-man recovers from 

 his automatic pose of concealment, ceases to whistle, 

 glances at the sail, moves the rudder slightly in his 

 endeavor to make more speed, and the merry waves 

 go slap, slap, slap against the bow, sweet music to the 

 sportsman's ear, far different from the rattle in the 

 streets at home. 



