MALLARD SHOOTING IN THE ROCKY 



MOUNTAINS. 



G. M. DlLLARD. 



A few years ago, I was the guest of 

 Mr. Percy K., of Helena, Mon- 

 tana, after hunting bears, elk 

 and other large game with him and 

 some friends, in the Bitter Root moun- 

 tains, in Idaho. 



When I left Helena, about the first of 

 October, he and Mrs. K. and his brother 

 Sam, came east with me, on the Great 

 Northern railway, as far as the Cascades, 

 on the Missouri river, where it was un- 

 derstood we should all stop for a day or 

 two, to shoot ducks. 



To me the place possessed an historic 

 interest, owing to the experiences of the 

 early explorers in that locality. It is 

 just east of the romantic " Gate of the 

 Mountains," where the Missouri river 

 breaks through the Belt Range of the 

 Rockies, so graphically described by 

 Lewis and Clark, the first white men 

 who visited the section. 



Northeast of us lay the* Great Falls, 

 Sun river, Marias river, Fort Benton, 

 and Milk river — all names bearing dis- 

 tinct associations on account of early 

 western history. 



We dined on the train and, on arriv- 

 ing at Cascade station, early in the 

 afternoon, took a team, drove over a 

 long bridge across the Missouri and out 

 into the broad meadows beyond. The 

 river at this point, 2500 miles from its 

 junction with the Mississippi, and 3700 

 from its outlet into the Gulf, is a bold, 

 almost navigable stream 200 yards wide. 



It is difficult to imagine a more beauti- 

 ful locality. The river banks were 

 fringed with cotton-wood trees, clothed 

 in the richest colors of autumn. The 

 meadows were green as spring. The 

 mountains, in view for a hundred miles, 

 were already clad in new snow, which 

 seemed to purify the atmosphere. 



Ducks were coming from the north, in 

 considerable numbers, and were per- 

 haps attracted to this particular place 

 by its quiet and genial atmosphere, 

 and the abundance of tender herbs 

 along the margin of the marshes and 

 sloughs, with which the meadows were in- 



tersected. We separated and endeavored 

 to stir up the game and get it to moving. 

 The shotgun seemed awkward after 

 such close companionship with the rifle, 

 but I managed to get down two sprig- 

 tails from the first bunch which passed 

 over me. Shortly after I killed five 

 mallards from a bunch of ten or twelve, 

 as they rose from a slough, and as they 

 doubled and returned I killed two more, 

 one with each barrel. They all fell in 

 water too deep for me to reach them, 

 even with waist boots. That was pro- 

 voking. My acquaintance with the 

 three retrievers was so slight that not 

 one of them would accompany me. I 

 went over on the prairie to join my 

 friends, who had disturbed a large num- 

 ber of ducks from their feeding ground, 

 in a shallow pond, and were having 

 good shooting ; but it lasted only a few 

 minutes. Near sunset we all drove 

 over to a slough, or lead, which followed 

 the course of the river. This was what 

 we wanted. It was in the flight of the 

 ducks, which were already beginning to 

 move. The birds were too high for 

 Mrs. K/s small gun, and she retired to 

 the wagon, a little distance off, and be- 

 came simply an observer. Besides, I 

 believe that Percy had loaded her cart- 

 ridges without shot to keep her from 

 beating him. 



For a time I stood with my com- 

 panions, who were both experts in duck 

 shooting ; but I missed so often that I 

 became discouraged. I knew that K. 

 had given me his best gun and best am- 

 munition, yet he and his brother were 

 killing, as it seemed to me, out of the 

 very sky, while I could not hit a fowl. I 

 went out and sat on the prairie, hoping 

 to improve my shooting by a few mo- 

 ments of deliberation. It was almost 

 more attractive to see my friends shoot 

 than to shoot, myself. The ducks were 

 moving rapidly, with the wind, at a 

 great height, yet they missed compara- 

 tively few. Going with such rapidity, 

 at such a height, the heavy fowl, though 

 struck dead, would fall some distance 



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