TWO DAYS WITH THE DUCKS. 



H. C. D. 



The fall of '92 found me temporarily lo- 

 cated at Chicago. 



I had spent a few Saturday afternoons at 

 Calumet lake, just outside the city limits, 

 with some luck; but the flight and variety 

 did not please me, and I wanted a good 

 old-time duck shoot. I did not have my 

 outfit with me, so had to depend on a Chi- 

 cago gun store for my gun and other traps. 

 The proprietor was accommodating. He 

 rented me a new 10 bore Remington ham- 

 mer gun and loaned me his canvas coat and 

 hat. 



I had chosen Fox lake for my sport, this 

 being the best place within a reasonable 

 distance of the city. Packing my traps I 

 boarded the 7.30 train, and 11.30 p.m. 

 found me, with 3 other pleasure seekers, 

 standing, in a half frozen condition, on the 

 station platform at Lake Villa. The team 

 from the hunters' hotel at Fox lake did not 

 start back until the 12.15 train had gone; 

 so we made ourselves acquainted and tried 

 to keep warm as best we could. 



For several days it had been ideal weath- 

 er for good flights of birds. A raw North- 

 east wind filled with wet flying snow, which 

 melted as it struck the ground; filling the 

 city streets with slush and the country 

 roads with from 6 to 8 inches of mud. 



This was the condition of affairs in Chi- 

 cago when we left. But at Lake Villa we 

 found the moon shining clear and bright, 

 the wind blowing a gale, and the mercury 

 standing at 10 degrees above zero. 



At last the team appeared, and we piled 

 in the 2-seated top wagon, bag and bag- 

 gage. We put up the curtains to keep out 

 the wind and as much cold as possible, and 

 started on our long drive to Fox lake, over 

 the roughest roads I had ever seen. The 

 roads were now frozen as hard as rock, and 

 our wagon, loaded to the springs, rode 

 over them like a wheelbarrow. We all took 

 turns at driving and at running beside the 

 wagon. Everything went as well as could 

 be expected until we turned in the wood 

 road. We were all holding on for dear 

 life, but a gully, 2 feet deep, was too much 

 for us. The jounce broke the back seat, 

 and over the back of the wagon went 2 of 

 our party, accompanied by several bags 

 and blankets. Fortunately, the men were 

 not hurt, the traps breaking their fall. We 

 picked them up, and after a severe shaking 

 arrived at 1.30 a.m. at the hotel. After we 

 were fairly thawed out, we were shown to 



our rooms. We were up before light and 

 at daybreak were preparing our sneak 

 boats for the day's sport. 



The bottoms of the boats were filled with 

 hot gravel the size of marbles. Over this 

 we placed straw and 2 robes; when all was 

 ready we crawled under the robes and made 

 ourselves comfortable in the straw. We 

 had to break the ice along the shore to get 

 to open water, but once there we were 

 ready for business. We were hardly clear 

 of the ice before a great flock of mud hens 

 rose and passed us at easy range One of 

 the party, wishing to try his gun, gave the 

 leaders a right and left, bringing them to 

 water. 



The reports started a flock of red heads 

 which were passing within range to my 

 right, making a very difficult shot, sit- 

 ting as I did. I managed to empty the 10 

 bore at the leaders and brought 4 down. 

 One arose with difficulty as we approached, 

 but was brought to bag by the guide. He 

 used an old Kentucky rifle, bored out to 

 about 16 gauge. This old gun proved a 

 killer before the day ended; the old man 

 always following up the flock after I had 

 emptied my gun. He never failed during 

 the day to drop his bird, but never got 

 more than one at a shot. The most re- 

 markable shot made with the gun was at 2 

 wild geese. We were nearing our blind on 

 the point, when they rose, the bulk of the 

 flock swung back to Grass lake; while 2, 

 for some reason, circled the point. These 

 passed just out of range; but I led them 

 some 15 feet and emptied my left at them. 

 The old man, seeing I had missed, dropped 

 his paddle, picked up the old gun and tak- 

 ing a careful aim pulled at fully 100 yards, 

 bringing down one of the geese with a shot 

 through its neck. This proved the only 

 shot that struck, but it did the work. 



We shot from the blind all the morning, 

 going back on shore for our lunch. The 

 evening flight was a good one, and brought 

 us rare sport. In 2 days we killed about 50 

 birds. The lot consisting of 4 mallards, 2 

 geese, red heads, pin tails, black ducks, and 

 blue bills. 



I never enjoyed myself so much at duck 

 shooting as I did on those 2 days at Fox 

 lake. A good guide, blind, boat, and a 

 good flight of birds are all one needs. If 

 these are all satisfactory, the cold is forgot- 

 ten and the constant excitement keeps your 

 blood bounding and your body warm. 



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