THE MALLARD. 239 



an Indian, as you perceive by his red skin and flowing black hair, which, 

 however, has been cut close from the sides of his head. In the centre of his 

 dearly purchased blanket, a hole has been cut, through which he has thrust 

 his bare head, and the ragged garment, like a horse's netting, is engaged as 

 it were in flapping off the last hungry musquitoes of the season that are fast 

 sucking the blood from his limbs. Watch him, Mallard. Nay, wait no 

 longer, for I see him taking aim; better for you all to fly! No — well, one 

 of you will certainly furnish him with a repast. Amid the dark wood rises 

 the curling smoke, the report comes on my ear, the Ducks all rise save a 

 pair, that, with back downwards and feet kicking against the air, have been 

 hit by the prowler. The free son of the forest slowly approaches the pool, 

 judges at a glance of the depth of the mire, and boldly advances, until with 

 a cane he draws the game towards him. Returning to the wood, he now 

 kindles a little fire, the feathers fill the air around; from each wing be takes 

 a quill, to clean the touch-hole of his gun in damp weather; the entrails he 

 saves to bait some trap. In a short time the Ducks are ready, and the hunter 

 enjoys his meal, although brief time does he take in swallowing the savoury 

 morsels. Soon, the glimmering light of the moon will see him again on his 

 feet, and lead him through the woods, as he goes in pursuit of other game. 



The Mallards that remain with us during the whole year, and breed on the 

 banks of the Mississippi or Lake Michigan, or in the beautiful meadows that 

 here and there border the Schuylkill in Pennsylvania, begin to pair in the 

 very heart of winter; and although Ducks are quite destitute of song, their 

 courtships are not devoid of interest. The males, like other gay deceivers, 

 offer their regards to the first fair one that attracts their notice, promise 

 unremitting fidelity and affection, and repeat their offers to the next they 

 meet. See that drake, how he proudly shews, first the beauty of his silky 

 head, then the brilliancy of his wing-spots, and, with honeyed jabberings, 

 discloses the warmth of his affection. He plays around this one, then around 

 another, until the passion of jealousy is aroused in the breasts of the admired 

 and flattered. Bickerings arise; the younger Duck disdains her elder sister, 

 and a third, who conceives herself a coquette of the first order, interposes, 

 as if to ensure the caresses of the feathered beau. Many tricks are played 

 by Ducks, good reader, but ere long the females retire in search of a safe 

 place in which they may deposit their eggs and rear their young. They 

 draw a quantity of weeds around them, and form an ill-arranged sort of nest, 

 in which from seven to ten eggs are laid. From their bodies they pluck the 

 softest down, and placing it beneath the eggs, begin the long process of 

 incubation, which they intermit only for short periods, when it becomes 

 absolutely necessary to procure a little sustenance. 



At length, in about three weeks, the young begin to cheep in the shell, 



