THE MALLARD 211 



marshes about the Kankakee, and used to shoot them 

 there, going out from George Green's, a famous resort 

 on English Lake. These grounds are now owned by 

 the English Lake Club, composed largely of Chicago 

 gentlemen. Upon my first visit to English Lake, I 

 shot many mallards, but did not do so well as others, 

 since I wandered far and wide, cruising with a punter 

 through the drowned forests, and out into the sloughs 

 and ponds of the vast marshes of wild-rice, and often 

 when in the blind the mallards got the best of me, 

 sailing swiftly by while I sat and gazed upon the 

 wondrous beauties of the scene. Without much diffi- 

 culty, however, I could easily put several dozen mal- 

 lards in the boat, and wood-duck, teal, red-heads, 

 spoon-bills, and all the other ducks often contributed 

 to the bag. The day of my arrival. Colonel Harris, a 

 well-known sportsman from Cincinnati, came in with 

 over fifty mallards in his boat, and next day did as 

 well. Other boats, with men I did not know, came 

 loaded to the guards and some would barely float. 

 One day, as we entered the great north marsh, our 

 coming disturbed the ducks and there must have been 

 millions of mallards in the air. The whole great 

 marsh seemed to rise up with a roar and the water 

 dropping from the ducks looked like heavy rain. The 

 sun shone brightly on the sea of emerald heads, so 

 numerous as to almost obscure the sky, and I sat dum- 

 founded and amazed. 



" Shoot, man ! Shoot ! " the punter cried, and, when 

 I fired, a single green-head climbed higher at the first 

 discharge and at the second shot came down. The 

 wary birds all went off and settled in some ponds 



