128 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [oHaP. xvI. 
splendid plumage, which they cast off in the spring, at that 
time, changing their gay feathers for a more sombre brown, 
resembling the plumage of the female bird, but darker. 
During the time that they are clothed in this grave dress, the 
drakes keep in flocks together, and show themselves but little, 
appearing to keep as much out of observation as possible. 
During the actual time of their spring moulting, the drakes are 
for some days so helpless that I have frequently seen a dog catch 
them. The same thing occurs with the few wild geese that breed 
in the north of Scotland. With regard to shooting wild ducks, 
I am no advocate or follower of the punt and swivel system. I 
can see little amusement in taking a long shot at the sound of 
feeding water-fowl, killing and maiming you know not what; 
nor am I addicted to punting myself in a flat boat over half- 
frozen mud, and waiting for hours together for the chance of a 
sweeping shot. There may be great sport in this kind of pro- 
ceeding, but I cannot discover it. I much prefer the more active 
and independent amusement of taking my chance with a common 
gun, meeting the birds on their way to and from their feeding 
or resting places, and observing and taking note of their different 
habits and ways of getting their living. 
No rule can be laid down for wild-fowl shooting; what suc- 
ceeds in one place, fails in another. The best. plan, in whatever 
district the sportsman is located is to take note where the 
birds feed, where they rest in the daytime, and where they take 
shelter in heavy winds. By observing these different things, it is 
always easy enough to procure a few wild ducks. On the coast, 
the birds change their locality with the ebb and flow of the tide, 
generally feeding with the ebb, and resting with the flow. I 
believe that about the best wild-fowl shooting in the kingdom is 
in the Cromarty Firth, where thousands of birds of every variety 
pass the winter, feeding on the long sea-grass, and passing back- 
wards and forwards constantly at every turn of the tide. I have 
here often killed wild ducks by moonlight. It is an interesting 
walk in the bright clear winter nights, to go round by the shore, 
listening to the various calls of the birds, the constant quack 
of the mallard, the shrill whistle of the widgeon, the low croaking 
note of the teal, and the fine bugle voice of the wild swan, varied 
every now and then by the loud whistling of a startled curlew, 
