284 
FORlEST AND STREAM. 
[April si, 
Northern Vermont Notes, 
Sheldon, Vt., March 31.— Editor Forest and Stream: 
t send yoit a few notes first concerning some bird ar- 
rivals here this season: 
March 9.— Saw first shore lark. 
March to. — Robins reported, but not seen bj' the 
writer until the i6th. 
March 17. — First bluebird; quite nvunerous. 
March 18. — First .song sparrow'. 
March 23. — Red-wing starling reported seen. 
March 25. — 'First meadowlark. 
It is quite possible that along the river and creek bot- 
toms these birds may have arrived some days earlier. 
The past month has been the most pleasant March ever 
known in northwestern Vermont, though not so early 
as the March of 1859. 
The writer has traced up the moose before reported as 
passing through this section last autumn. With the ex- 
ception of being cut about the legs by the barbed wire 
fences, it crossed safely back into Canada, where it re- 
ceived a hot reception. In Sutton, P. Q., the first town 
over the line north of Richford, Vt., one fellow fired 
nine shots at it, and another habitant three shots, hut 
evidently without effect, as the moose at a good gait 
entered the woods of Sutton Mountain, headed north- 
ward. 
Last season three dear were killed on this mountain, 
and twenty-seven in the vicinity of Mt. Orford. 
Last summer a two-year-old cow inoose was seen at 
Brompton Lake, north of Orford Mountain. 
The ice is out of our lakes and streams, but no trout 
fishing is permitted until May i. Stanste.^d. 
§mt(e §4^ md 
Duck Shooting in Connecticut. 
One cold morning in the latter part of November a 
light carriage, drawn by a medium-sized bay mare, 
stopped in front of a house in the city of New Haven. 
"Hello, Will," said I, "here I am at last. Did you 
think I was never coming?" 
"Why, yes, Harry, I did think so; in fact, I had 
given you up entirely." 
"I'm sorrj'. It was impossible for me to get here 
any sooner, though.. It's quite a job to get so many 
things together in so short a time. There was the horse 
to feed and clean, gun, ammunition, grub, e-xtra cloth- 
ing, jug of cider and other necessary articles to be 
stored in the carriage in some kind of style. Add to 
this the time for breakfast, harnessing, and a drive of 
seven miles; then I think you must acknowledge that 
I've done pretty well to get here even by 10 o'clock. I 
tell you what, I've hustled since 5 o'clock." 
I had been invited by ni}' friend, Mr. William Barker, 
to indulge in a duck hunting expedition with him to 
Sachem's Head. He owns a small summer cottage there, 
and as he is an ardent lover of duck shooting he keeps 
the cottage furnished, to a certain extent, all the year 
round. When he feels like indulging his propensity for 
his favorite sport he invites some one of his acquaint- 
ances to spend a day or so with him at the cottage. A 
person is always sure of a good time on one of these 
trips, even should he fail to shoot any ducks. 
Sachem's Head is a matter of sixteen miles from the 
center of New Haven. In the summer time, wdien the 
fields and woods are green, the drive is a charming 
one, and the roads are excellent. Now, however, while 
the sky was deA^oid of clouds and the sun shone brightly, 
the wind howled out of the northwest in a biting man- 
ner, and it was impossible to keep comfortable. 
We crossed the network of railroad tracks, and nu- 
merous drawbridges between New Haven and East 
Haven, ,without mishap. I noticed that the horse acted 
strangely, and called my companion's attention to the 
fact a number of times. Generally she roads at a good, 
snappy gait, b,ut now she seemed not to care whether 
she moved or lay down. In fact, she appeared to prefer 
to lie down. "I don't understand why she acts that way," 
i said over and over again. 
''Possibly the horse is sick, Harry, and don't feel 
like moving. Is she subject to a colic?" 
"No, not to my know'ledge. You know I've only had 
her a short while, but I never noticed any indications 
of colic about her." 
"Humph! the old animal does act queer, that's a 
fact." 
When we reached the foot of the hill at the southern 
end of Lake Saltonstall the old mare acted so weak that 
we wondered if she would be able to draw the carriage 
to the top of the hill. Before noticing anything strange 
in her demeanor I had entertained my companion with 
hair-lifting accounts of the manner in which she had, 
on two diflerent occasions, taken the. bit in her teeth 
and nearly smashed things to pieces. "That's why I 
had to get that ring bit for her," said I. "A common one 
won't hcdd her," 
Will Wzs now enjoying himself hugelj'- at my expense. 
"Push on the reins," said he, "or she'll smash things 
all to bits by falling over backward into the carriage." 
It was a tedious climb to the top of the hill, and 
seemed to wear the strength completely out of the 
horse. My heart beat with compassion for her, and I 
had come to the conclusion that our trip would have 
to end at the next farmhouse. 
"Thank heaven, we're at the top of the hill at laat," 
said Will, when we had gained that point on our jour- 
ney. "I believe we'll be compelled to get out and carry 
the old " He never finished the sentence, for at 
that moment something snapped; it was the old mare's 
teeth as she grabbed the bit. Her ears flopped tight 
to the back- of her head, as though glued there; the 
carriage shot ahead as if expelled from a catapult; then 
the landscape commenced to slide to the rear. The old 
beast not only had the bit, but the carriage as well, and 
all it contained. We managed to retain possession of the 
whole of the road, and we needed every foot of it. 
"What ails her, liarry? What ails her?" 
Will's eyes were nearly bulging from their sockets, and 
he clung to the side of the carriage seat with the te- 
nacity of grim death. ".She's running away, tliat's all," 
I gasped. 
"Can't you hold her, Harry? Can't you stop her?" 
His appeal was filled with a yearning that Was exceed- 
ingly pathetic. 
"I'd give $50 if I only could stop her," I groaned. 
The carriage alternately slid from one side of the 
road to the other. "Whoa, Bell! Whoa! Hi there! 
Who-ap! who-a-p!" No use; the wheels only turned 
faster. How they managed to hold together was in- 
comprehensible to me. We came to a long curve and 
the old mare settled down to business in a manner that 
was agonizingly frightful. She seemed to flatten to 
twice her length, and appeared not to run, but to fly. 
Fences and telegraph poles appeared and vanished in 
kaleidoscopic succession. I sawed and pulled, sawed 
and pulled, but no use; she had us all right. The bit 
felt like it would if screwed up in a vise. 
We had made half a mile in half a miiiute (so Will 
afterward declared), and I could gain no control of the 
horse whatever. I dared not exert my full strength on 
the reins for fear they might break. I held the whip 
in my right hand, and couldn't drop the reins to put 
it in the whip socket. "Take the whip, Will! Take 
the whip!" I cried. He misunderstood and grasped one 
of the reins instead. He exerted his full strength with 
both hands; the old beast jumped to his side of the road, 
and the carriage all but upset. "Take the whip! Take 
the whip— and let the reins alone!" I yelled. He finally 
comprehended and took the whip from my hand. 
To make matters more joyously exhilarating, the har- 
ness now began to part, and I surelj'' thought the 
grand, final climax had arrived. Luck, however, favored 
us in one respect — the road was nearly straight, and we 
met no teams. When the hilarious brute had made 
something over a mile she commenced to lose her wind, 
and I gradually gained control of her.' Much to her 
regret I stopped her just before reaching the railroad 
bridge that spans the road on the outskirts of Branford. 
When the bewitching old beast finally came to a 
standstill we got out and enjoyed oiirselves hugely re- 
pairing damages. The harness had dissolved partner- 
ship in a number of places, and the frigid air fairly 
scorched as we enthusiastically proceeded to mend that 
busted harness with two old shoestrings. We re-entered 
the carriage with considerable misgivings, and proceed- 
ed on our way. The old mare had fooled us, but she 
acted great!}' dejected Avhen she realized she hadn't 
killed lis. I kept her on the go the rest of the trip, 
and ,she roaded the remaining eleven miles in less than 
an hour. Will never mentioned anything more about 
"pushing on tlic reins." In fact, we were both anxious, 
and we felt much relieved as we approached our objective 
point. 
I had bought this mare for my family's especial use. 
■ and shcJiad been recoinmended to me as perfectly safe 
for a child to drive anywhere. I afterward found that 
she was a notorious runaway, and that she had broken 
the leg of one of New^ Haven's best known liverymen. 
It seems to me that lite imprisonment would be none 
too harsh a sentence for any person who wcnild recom- 
mend such a horse to a buyer as safe when fully aware 
of the animal's vicious nature. 
Will had always lavished enthusiastic praises on the 
excellence and beauty of Sachem's Head. "It's God's 
own garden," he had said time and- again. .As the 
carriage swung around a curve in the road, and the 
place suddenly broke to our view, it seemed I had sel- 
dom looked upon a sight more pleasing to the eye. 
I had seen the rows of clean, bright ;summer cottages 
many times, but always from the water. They are 
perched on eveiy available rock, point, and choice spot. 
Some of their roofs peeped from among a grove of 
small cedars, which grew back a way from the water's 
edge. A neat, clean hotel stands on a prominent spot, 
and commands an excellent view of the Sound in front, 
and of the hills, woods and valleys to the north. 
The waters of the Sound basked radiantly in the rays 
of the early winter sunshine, and the shores of Long 
Island stood plainly out to view. That which interested 
us more than an3'thing else, however, was the sight of 
numerous flocks of ducks feeding near the shore. They 
consisted mostly of old squaws and coots, but here and 
there we noticed an occasional bimch of broadbills. 
"Isn't this fine! Just see that bunch of broadbills! 
By George! — we're in luck. It's too bad to-day is Sun- 
" day. Never mind — they'll stay, and we'll have some 
fun with them to-morrow." Presently he continued: 
"See, Harry! right among that thick bunch of cedars. 
Do you see the little cottage? That's my little .shanty— 
the place where we will stay to-night." Isn't it fine! I 
love that little nest." And it was a cozy little house. 
We found quarters for the horse in a nearby barn. 
After starting a roaring fire in the kitchen stove we got 
at a good, hot dinner, and the rest of the afternoon 
we spent in snapping the camera at dififerent objects 
of interest. 
Will decided that we hadn't decoys enough, so when 
darkness settled over the earth we took a trip across 
the fields to a farmhouse, and borrowed an extra dozen. 
We then hurried back to the house and got out our 
own decoys, dusted them ofif, fixed the strings by which 
they are anchored, and got them in some kind of order, 
so that things would work systematically in the morn- 
ing. Will set the alarm for 4 in the morning, and we 
betook ourselves to bed and pleasant dreams. 
It seemed I was sound asleep as soon as my head 
touched the pillow. The next thing I knew my eyes 
opened with a snap and my ears were filled with the 
sound of the harsh jangle of the alarm clock. "Heavens! 
it can't be morning yet," I said, aloud. "Yes it is, and 
you'd better get up out of that, or you'll get no ducks 
to-day," said a voice from out the darkness. Will was 
already stumbling around in his room in a vain endeavor 
to find a match. 
The house was cold and disagreeable at first, but we 
soon had a good fire going. Then the coffee was start- 
ed, beans put in the oven to warm, and steak broiled 
to a turn. "We must eat all the breakfast we can hold," 
said W'ill, "for we won't have another chance to fill up 
until 3 or 4 o'clock." 
Just how Will had manipulated that alarm clock he 
alone knows. Wlien our meal was finished I went out 
on the veranda and looked for some sign of morning, 
but there was no sign. I kept going out at regular in- 
tervals for oveir an hour, but always with the same re- 
sult. The sky was overcast and a few flakes of snow 
were falling. The surf moaned mournfully on the shore, 
and a raw, chill wind sighed out of the east. Faulkner's 
t.sland Light flashed alternating long and short gleams, 
and the doleful wail of a steamboat's whistle came at 
regular intervals over the giooniy waves from the south. 
Fvery indication pointed to a favorabe day for our busi- 
ness — for such is perfect dticking weather. 
After what seemed an age the eastern horizon took 
on the faintest tinge of gray. This was the signal for 
us hurriedly to transfer the guns, ammunition and de- 
coys to the beach. When this work was finished the 
forces of daylight had encroached considerably on the 
shadowy realms of night. 
"We're going to haA^e a dandy day," observed Will, 
as he viewed the stirface of the water ju.st before we 
shoved the boat off the beach. "Just see the ducks out 
by Hump Rock! Why, there are thousands of them, 
and they're not stirring yet. Come, let'.s move, or we 
won't get our decoys out until after sunrise." 
We slid the boat over the sand and into the water; then 
we got aboard and started for Hump Rock, black and 
oval shaped, and seldom submerged even by the highest 
tides. It lies about a quarter of a mile off shore, and 
is a faA^orite stand for duck shooters. 
It is cold business setting decoys, as every one 'knows 
who has ever been there. In spite of the protection af- 
forded by two pairs of woolen drawers, two pairs _ of 
trousers, two woollen undershirts, a heavy outing shirt, 
vest, heavy sweater and shooting jacket, and a heavy 
Avoolen cap, a pair of heavy shoes covered by arctics, 
and two pairs of mittens, I was none too warm while 
setting those wooden images. If it is cold setting them 
it is doubly so taking them up again. Will did the row- 
ing and I set the decoys as he directed. 
I hadn't dropped one-half of the wooden lures over 
the side before the ducks were stirring. They circled all 
about us and were very bold. Flock after flock swooped 
down toward the decoys, aiid many of them came within 
easy range, but we refrained from firing at them. "Hur- 
ry, Harry! hurry!" Will kept repeating. I needed no 
urging, however, for I was as auxious to commence 
shooting as he. 
FinalV the last decoy was dropped over the side, and 
we took our stations on the rock out of sight of the 
ducks. We had hardly removed the covers from the 
cartridge boxes when, "Mark west!" said Will. Look- 
ing in that direction, T saw a bunch of old-squaws sweep- 
ing down on the decoys with the speed of the wind. 
We held our fire until they reached the center of the 
deceptive lures, then we opened on them. Bang! bang! 
bang! One tumbled = out of the air, and two bunches of 
feathers drifting on the wind showed that some of the 
others had been hit. 
"Mark south!" A bunch qf cGotS were comiiig* from 
that quarter, and at the same time I noticed another 
bunch of old-squaws heading toward us from the west. 
Will tumbled one of the coots in good shape. I only 
succeeded in winging one of the old-squaws. I chased 
him with the boat ancl fusilladed him until I was in a fair 
way of using up all my ammunition; then I relinquished 
the chase and returned to the rock. 
The sun was now trying to .shine, and his rays were 
gilding the clouds with .gold. Wreaths of mist lifted 
from the crests of the waves and swept along above 
the surface of the water. Flock after flock of ducks 
arose from their liquid resting place and winged their 
way in every direction. We were kept so busy at- 
tending to tho.se which came to the decoys that 
we forgot all about being cold. Some we killed, others 
we wounded, but the great majority escaped unscathed. 
"Mark west — spoonbills. Keep well out of sight, Har- 
ry, for they're shy rascals, and we'll have to do oirr 
prettiest if wc get a shot at them." We hugged the 
rock close, and had the satisfaction of seeing the bunch 
coming to the decoys without a swerve. "A pair of 
those fellows are worth more than all the coots and 
old-squaws in the Sound," whispered my companion. 
"Make sure of your aim, and don't fire until you see 
their eyes." 
On they came until within 50yds. of the decoys, then, 
to our disgust, they swung, and all but one passed to 
the north; this one came straight to the decoys. As he 
discovered the fraud and wheeled to join his compan- 
ions, Will fired and tumbled him out of the air in fine 
shape. This shot was by far the best made that day. 
A bank of clouds now swept out of the northea.st 
and brouglit a dash of snow and rain. Coots and old- 
squaws kept coming, however, and we continued to 
fusillade them until our ammunition became exhausted. 
Will remembered that a box of shells had been left at 
the house, so I vohmteered to go after them. 
When I returned with the shells I found Will almost 
in tears from vexation. "While you were gone," said 
he, "a whole bunch of broadbills settled right among 
the decoys. Of course I hadn't a shell, and those ducks 
wouldn't stir until I jumped on top of the rock and 
yelled like an Indian. I believe they knew I was out 
of ammunition." 
We soon used up the extra shells, then nothing re- 
mained for us to do but to get our decoys and go ashore. 
While taking up the decoys we were much surprised to 
find how wretchedly we had misjudged distance. We 
found the nearest decoy to be over 45yds. away, and that 
we had fired many shots at fully twice that distance. 
After a good, hot dinner we packed our belongings 
into the carriage, harnessed up the old runaway and set 
out for home. Before starting, however, we reinforced 
our leather reins with a good, stout pair of rope ones. 
We didn't care to repeat our comet-like experience of 
the da}^ before, so the old mare was kept moving the 
whole distance to New Haven. I had learned better 
than to allow her to accumulate any extra steam by 
favoring her. I am also happy to state that the person 
of whom I bought her is to-day the happy possessor 
of her. I persuaded him to relieve me of her the day 
after I got back from our ducking trip. Should any 
of Forest and Stream's readers desire this double- 
jointed, triple-expansion, comet-like piece of horseflesh, 
I could put them on her trail. I wouldn't, however, for 
I have no enemies among Forest and Stream's readers 
that I know of, and I wouldn't have a friend get hold 
of her for the world. 
While old-squaws and coots do not fatik high among 
