DUCKING ON THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 



STEVE. 



It was the first week in November, and 

 I longed for a hunting trip. While 

 wondering where I should go, I received 

 an invitation from my old friend Peter 

 Sheldon, to visit his home on the Rap- 

 pahannock. Peter and I had hunted 

 together many times, having been neighbors 

 before I moved to Baltimore. I was will- 

 ing enough to return to my former home 

 for a time and at once began to get ready. 

 My Winchester repeating shot gun W23 

 carefully packed. Next came a new ,303 

 Savage rifle, which I was longing to try. 

 Then I put in my little 22 caliber just for 

 fun at the target. At last I was ready to 

 start and boarded a South-bound steamer. 



The next morning I was up and on deck 

 just as day was breaking. We were then 

 nearing the mouth of the Rappahannock, 

 and already ducks could be seen. As we 

 entered the river a bunch of mallards flew 

 within gunshot of the steamer. I watched 

 them until they disappeared in the haze 

 near the shore. Soon I espied a large 

 flock of geese about a mile away, and I 

 began anticipating a larger time. 



I reached my destination about 11 a. m. 

 Peter was at the wharf to meet me ; so 

 was old setter Doc and little spaniel Bess. 

 Old Sam was also on hand to drive us to 

 the house, his honest, black face agrin 

 from ear to ear. 



We soon reached Peter's house, a typical 

 Virginia homestead, facing a creek. From 

 the porch I could see the Rappahannock, 

 which is about 5 miles wide at that point. 

 Peter pointed to a 15 acre field of stubble 

 with a strip of buckwheat alongside and 

 said there was more than one nice bunch 

 of birds in it for us to tackle when we 

 tired of ducks. After supper I showed 

 Peter the new Savage and he agreed with 

 me that it looked as if it would shoot when 

 called on u Peter said we would better 

 take the canoe in the morning and have 

 Sam sail us up the river if the wind was 

 favorable ; "if not, we could go out on Yan- 

 kee point and try the ducks from a blind. 

 We were early aboard the canoe, a 20 foot 

 craft and a fast sailer, with lots of room. 

 At last we reached a small inlet that led 

 us to the river. Sam set the foresail and 

 we took our positions; I in the bow with 

 the Winchester pump gun and Peter amid- 

 ship. There was a steady breeze blowing 

 up the river and every little while I would 

 get a dash of spray behind my collar. 

 Presently I saw a bunch of mallards and 

 gradually drew nearer. Sam pointed the 

 canoe a little to one side to give Peter a 

 clear shot,, I took the nearest duck to 



the left ; missed with the first barrel and 

 dropped him with the second. Peter scored 

 one with each barrel of his old Parker. 



Sam ran the boat up to the ducks we 

 had dropped and brought her up in the 

 wind. Little Bess was all of a tremble. 

 Peter dropped her overboard and she soon 

 had the birds alongside. 



Then Sam saw another flock nearer shore, 

 •and stood in for them. Before we reached 

 them a big flock of redheads came down 

 by us. Peter scrambled to the other side 

 of the boat and we had some fun. I 

 dropped 2 with the first barrel and one the 

 next. Peter got 2 with each barrel. It 

 fairly rained redheads, but they were close 

 and well bunched. Bess was barking and 

 ready for a jump, but the water was too 

 rough; so we sailed around and picked 

 them up. I had to shoot a cripple that 

 was doing his best to get away. 



Then we headed for Yankee point, which 

 extends about 200 yards and is cov- 

 ered with grass waist high. It forms 

 a cove where the water is usually smooth, 

 and is a grand feeding ground. Sam ran 

 the canoe ashore South of the point and 

 we took out the guns, including the Sav- 

 age. At the edge of the bluff overlooking 

 the cove we peeped through the grass. We 

 saw several hundred ducks just out of 

 range. We went back to cover, filled our 

 pipes and concluded to wait a while to 

 see if the birds would come nearer shore. 



I was lighting my old briar when I heard 

 the honk of a goose, then a whole chorus 

 of honks. About 8 geese dropped just out- 

 side the point, in full view. They got up 

 again and came inside the cove, but were 

 still about 200 yards away. Peter told me 

 to try the Savage. I left the peep sight at 

 point blank range and used the large aper- 

 ture. Then I picked out a goose ; the light 

 was fine and a goose makes a good dark 

 target with the ivory bead sight. The gun 

 was loaded with regular cartridges. I rest- 

 ed the rifle on an old stump, aimed a trifle 

 high and pulled the trigger. Away went all 

 the birds except one goose. He seemed 

 trying a double shuffle, but soon lay quiet 

 on the water. When we pulled him in 

 we found that he was shot through the 

 neck. 



During the remainder of my stay we 

 hunted everything there was to hunt ; quails 

 and ducks mostly. We had a few coon 

 hunts with Sam; and on rainy days we 

 read and smoked. I had the goose mount- 

 ed after reaching home, and when I sit in 

 my den and look at the result of my first 

 shot my chest expands about 7 inches. 



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