October, 1920 
FOREST AND STREAM 
541 
THE MALLARD-OUR FAMILIAR DUCK 
PART NINE OF A SERIES OF ARTICLES DESCRIBING THE TRAITS, 
CHARACTERISTICS AND METHODS OF HUNTING OUR WATER -FOWL 
T HE mallard is immediately identified 
when we say he is the green-head 
duck of the barn-yard. The latter 
is descended from the wild bird. The 
wild bird is, however, far more beautiful 
for the colors of his plumage are bright- 
er and he is alert and graceful on land, 
on water and in the air — far different 
from his relative whose domestication 
has dulled both his wits and his feathers 
and who through much feeding and little 
exercise possesses but little of the trim 
outline and powers of flight of his an- 
cestors. 
The mallard is the most important spe- 
cies of wil^-fowl we have, since it is by 
far the most plentiful, the most widely 
distributed and the best known. It is 
one of our finest and largest ducks and 
also one of the handsomest. 
Male: Head and neck glossy green, 
narrow white collar; breast rich chest- 
nut; under parts grayish white with fine 
waved lines of black; back dark grayish 
brown, shading to black on lower back; 
wings slate brown; speculum or wing- 
mirrow purple, bordered with black and 
white bars; tail coverts black; tail gray- 
ish white; bill greenish yellow; legs and 
feet orange red. Length twenty-two to 
twenty-three inches. Female: Dusky 
brown with buff markings; speculum 
like male. Size, bill, legs and feet same 
as male. 
Speaking of table qualities, I should 
say the mallard was the best wild duck 
in the world if I did not fear contradict- 
ing myself sooner or later when sum- 
ming up the merits of some other fine 
fowli All the fresh-water ducks are, 
however, excellent for the table and af- 
ford sport magnificent. The flesh of the 
mallard which has fattened on wild-rice 
or acorns is so delicious that it does not 
seem possible it could be excelled by any 
other duck, yet the little blue-wing teal 
or the wood duck is so fine that one 
often wonders if the mallard can possibly 
be any better. So, like the epicure who 
describes first one duck and then another 
as the finest food, we are in danger of 
saying many are the best. 
Perhaps it would be well to describe 
the mallard as the best all-around duck, 
the staple, as it were, and consider the 
blue-wing as something special, just a 
trifle better if that were possible than 
the best. In attempted fairness to all 
deserving, I would choose the mallard, 
the blue-wing teal and the wood duck to 
share equal honors for first place. The 
canvas-back, red-head, widgeon and one 
or two others would be in close second 
place, and this because, although they 
are often as fine table birds as those of 
the first award, they are not always so, 
whereas the mallards, blue-wings and 
wood ducks are . invariably excellent. 
The mallard is distributed throughout 
the northern portions of both hemi- 
spheres and seems to have entirely 
By FREDERICK A. W1LLITS 
escaped the ornithological variety mak- 
ers. There are, therefore, no sub-species. 
The mallard, however, has shown some- 
times an ambition all its own to create 
new species by an occasional intimacy 
with other ducks, which have resulted in 
some hybrid fowl of most surprising ap- 
pearance and which have been a source 
of bewilderment to the ornithologists. I 
have seen live birds with the body plum- 
age of the black-duck and the green head 
of the mallard, and a mounted bird with 
a mallard’s head and the long tail of the 
pin-tail duck. Other hybrids have been 
reported. 
When the sportsman goes to the fresh- 
water marshes to shoot ducks they are 
usually mallards, the other varieties be- 
ing often accessories in a day’s shooting. 
Mallard drake 
T HE favorite places for mallards are 
the shallow, grass-grown ponds in 
the vast wild-rice marshes. They 
also resort to low timbered sections along 
the rivers where the woods have been 
flooded. Oak woods hold particular at- 
traction for them since they are very 
fond of acorns. Then, too, they are often 
found with the sea-ducks on the bays 
and sounds along the coasts and are shot 
on the stubble fields of the west, to which 
they resort to feed on the grain. 
Mallards are usually very shy and 
wary. They fly swiftly and test the skill 
of the marksman although, because of 
their large size, they are not as difficult 
marks as the little teal. 
The mallard is hunted in the various 
manners described in the preceding chap- 
ter on river-duck shooting. The most 
familiar method of shooting them is over 
decoys. 
Very early in the morning, before 
dawn, the sportsman goes to the place 
where the shooting is to be done. At his 
approach the ducks which have been 
feeding in the pond during the night take 
alarm and fly out. The experienced hun- 
ter will not shoot at them then, even 
though the most tempting shot is offered. 
He knows that the ducks can reason well 
and that if they are shot at as they de- 
part, they will be less apt to come back. 
After all the ducks have flown away 
without being alarmed unnecessarily, the 
decoys are placed in the water and the 
blind quickly made, or perhaps the blind 
is already built, as is usually the case on 
the club preserves. Often the decoys are 
live mallards which have been tamed and 
trained to call the wild birds in. 
As the light of the coming day spreads 
in the east, the mallards, under the im- 
pression, no doubt, that their alarm was 
false, return singly or in pairs and often 
in good sized flocks. The birds, eager 
to feed in their chosen pond, see in the 
well made decoys a flock of their kin that 
have preceded them and are busily feed- 
ing, or perhaps they are enticed by the 
live decoys which are swimming about 
and quacking in a most friendly manner. 
Sometimes the wild birds fly straight 
into the decoys, but usually they circle 
the pond several times to make sure that 
no hidden danger awaits them in the 
nearby rushes. Then, if their suspicions 
are alayed, they lower and come sailing 
into the decoys. That is the moment 
which thrills the lover of wild-fowling. 
The gun springs to shoulder and quickly 
picks out a green-head hovering in mid- 
air, or perhaps two birds which are close 
together. With the sportsman’s first 
move and with the report of the gun, the 
frightened mallards spring straight up 
in the air with incredible swiftness. The 
gun must be held well above the tower- 
ing birds in order to insure a hit with 
the second barrel. A moment later and 
the surviving ducks are out of range, 
racing down wind. The old duck shooter 
wades out in the water to pick up the 
dead birds, or sends his faithful spaniel 
to retrieve them. The tyro stands with 
smoking gun and open mouth and a look 
of astonishment upon his face as he 
watches the forms of the retreating fowl 
grow rapidly smaller, and wonders how 
he ever came to miss all those big birds 
right over his decoys. 
What scenes of wondrous beauty 
await the sportsman who goes to shoot 
the mallards, and other ducks as well. 
The splendid panorama which attends 
the change from star-lit night to broad 
light of day, and seen best in the marsh- 
es, is first to greet him. 
At the first pale streaks of dawn 
spread in the eastern sky, the marshland, 
silent and mysterious, is slowly revealed. 
The nearby rice stalks rise phantom-like 
to view, darkly silhoutted against the 
sky, and the water shows with the sheen 
of silver between its borders of black 
rushes. A string of ducks fly swiftly 
across the dim gray light. Later, as the 
sun rises, the vast expanse of marsh, 
stretching out on all sides, seemingly 
boundless, appears in all its infinitely 
tender shades of green, brown, yellow and 
