November, 1920 
FOREST AND STREAM 
589 
ing was rapid, but many shells were 
wasted in the dark. A stream of flame 
would shoot up into the night as the 
bayman fired and the roar of his gun 
would echo loudly over the bay. Even he 
missed many shots. Occasionally a duck 
coming at high speed would splash into 
the water in front of one of us, but 
they too were exceedingly hard to hit 
and at our first move they were in the 
air again and out of sight. 
From distant pond holes on the island 
we could hear the nasal quack — quack — 
quack of many ducks, and hear them 
splashing in the water. If it happened 
to be a moonlight night we had better 
shots as the ducks passed in silhouette 
before the silver orb, but at best the 
shooting was extremely difficult. 
Night shooting is now prohibited by 
law, as it most decidedly should be. It 
is certainly unfair to disturb ducks at 
night, especially so when the birds re- 
sort to spending the hours of daylight 
far out on the open water because of the 
shooting on their feeding grounds during 
the day, and when, therefore, they have 
only the night in which to obtain their 
food. The temptation, however, is great 
to shoot at black ducks after dark, when 
they leave the meadows and shooting 
points at daybreak and do not return 
until after sun-down. But night shoot- 
ing is the quickest way to drive black 
ducks from a favorite feeding ground, 
in fact, when practised steadily it will 
cause them to leave whole sections. The 
knowledge of this should be all sufficient 
to keep anyone from shooting these birds 
at night or from wishing to do so. 
L IVE black ducks are often used for 
decoys. As I have observed, they 
and the mallards are the varieties 
almost always used, since they are the 
most common ducks and do best in cap- 
tivity. Wild black ducks come well to 
live mallard decoys and the mallards 
come equally well to the black ducks. 
I used to keep three live decoys or 
callers at my summer home on the New 
Jersey Coast. I procured the ducks, a 
hen mallard and a pair of black ducks, 
from a farmer who had raised them from 
eggs of the wild birds. They made ex- 
cellent decoys and lured many wild ducks 
within range of my gun by quacking. 
When gunning with them, I used to 
anchor the black ducks out in the water 
just in front of my blind, and tie the 
hen mallard in the tall rushes or grass 
on shore where she could not see the 
other birds. The mallard, missing the 
other ducks with whom she was always 
in close company, would quack to them 
at frequent intervals, and they would 
answer her. In this way the birds kept 
up a conversation in duck language 
which proved most seductive to passing 
wild ducks. 
When at home, the birds were quite a 
source of amusement. They were very 
tame and, although free to go wherever 
they liked during the day, they never 
strayed far from their own grounds. At 
night I shut them up in a pen. During 
the day they walked about the lawn or 
rested in the shade of a tree. Their 
wings were clipped so they could not fly. 
Fresh water marsh, the real home of the black duck 
They were very friendly with me but 
they were especially attached to the col- 
ored chef, since he fed them more often 
than I did. He and the ducks were boon 
companions and he thought quite as much 
of them as they did of him. 
They knew well the regular feeding 
hours and never failed to be at the back 
door on time to receive their cracked 
corn, lettuce, celery tops and other food. 
If the chef, busy with other duties, kept 
them waiting for a few minutes, they 
would clamber up the kitchen steps, flap- 
ping their wings, and waddle up and 
down the porch trying to get sight of 
him through the windows or door, and 
quacking lustily the while. When he 
opened the door they would waddle into 
the kitchen, one behind the other, bow- 
ing and quacking in a most amusing 
manner. When he went out upon the 
lawn they followed at his heels like dogs. 
When he had a special bit of food for 
them he would call, — “Come you ducks, 
come you ducks,” and the ducks would 
come on the run, flapping their wings 
and quacking for all they were worth. 
T HE dusky ducks breed in the United 
States as well as in Canada. Many 
of them nest in New Jersey, New 
York and Maine and the number doing 
so is increasing each year since spring 
shooting has been stopped. 
I have shot the dusky ducks over de- 
coys on the bay and in the fresh water 
marshes, have taken them on the lakes 
in the forests of Maine and in the cy- 
press swamps of Florida. I have jumped 
them from a boat in the wild rice, shot 
them on passes and at night. I have 
always keenly enjoyed their pursuit. 
Black duck frequent the brackish bays along our coasts 
