662 
FOREST AND STREAM 
December, 1920 
Log Cabins 
and Cottages 
(Sixth Edition) 
How to Build and 
Furnish Them 
By 
WILLIAM S. WICKS 
The most popular book on the 
subject ever written. Full ex- 
planations how to build cabins 
of all sizes with directions and 
numerous illustrations. Every- 
thing from a shack to the most 
pretentious Adirondack struc- 
ture, is included. 
Pictures and plans of fire- 
places ; how to build chim- 
neys; rustic stairways, etc. 
PRICE $2.00 
NEW EDITION 
NOW READY 
Forest and Stream 
BOOK DEPT. 
9 East 40th St., N. Y. City 
I had long since given up trying to 
keep my feet warm. But now, even my 
thoughts seemed on the point of freez- 
ing solid. I tried auto-suggestion and 
recalled all the hot things I have ever 
met — and some I have not. A few ideas 
were partially saved. 
Then came fresh excitement to set the 
internal furnaces aglow. Four distant 
reports rumbled across the bay. “Look 
yonder, someone’s putting up those 
broadbill,” and Jackson pointed toward 
the north. A mist rose over the water, 
thickening into a smoke-like cloud. 
Rolling up wind it came, rising and 
pitching down in low-flung streamers; 
a raft of ducks flying up channel. 
Trailing wisps eddied behind as though 
torn by the wind. Quickly individual 
duck forms grew distinct as they 
winged nearer. We watched with 
nerves a-tingle to the duck-shooter’s 
most wonderful spectacle. Following 
each channel winding, those birds swept 
on, and the whisper of air on a multi- 
tude of wings vibrated in our ears. Ap- 
parently a jumbled chads, of white- 
banded bodies, their ranks shuttled in 
and out with miraculous avoidance of 
collision. Heedless of Jackson’s thrilling 
calls, they were passing. A trailing 
bunch headed toward us, then curved 
away. Scarcely breathing, we watched 
stringing birds speeding after the main 
flock. A single bent over to cross us. 
Seven others fell away following. Ted’s 
gun crashed. One flying shape crumpled 
into an arching fall. I snapped two 
crossing birds. One tumbled headlong. 
The second whirled down, wing-tipped. 
I twisted to fire again, and missed wild- 
ly. Five birds had splashed down, yet 
two dived to vanish utterly. 
“Stay down!” came a sharp whisper. 
Another trailing flock swept by. I lay 
back, breathing hard, watching the bay 
with excited eyes. No birds showed 
against my horizon. Astonishment 
surged in my breast whejn Jackson 
cried, “Shoot!” I sat up, staring. Over 
the decoys on my right, two blackducks 
hung stiff-winged. Ted killed one clean. 
As the second towered up, I pulled. The 
trigger clicked discouragement. My gun 
was empty! Ted fired again and 
missed. The duck fell away and the 
captain shot it down beyond the stool. 
It kicked a moment, revived suddenly, 
and flopped when Jackson’s second bar- 
rel roared. I reloaded my gun in disgust. 
“Have your safety on?” queried Jack- 
son with a chuckle; while Ted began to 
bubble with his idea of malicious sar- 
casm. I hurled an empty shell at them 
and lay back fuming. 
D AY was waning and the bay grew 
quiet again. We drank our last 
hot coffee, a transitory bulwark 
against the frosty wind. As I drummed 
my heels, seeking to stir life into my 
numbed toes, I saw another goose flock 
outlined against some far off, dull 
clouds. That faint line grew less swift- 
ly than the others which had passed. 
Imperceptibly its course changed and 
swung over the bay. The long-drawn 
rank of winging birds pitched into roll- 
ing flight. The rhythm of their wing- 
strokes broke as they began to lower. 
“They’ll come down!” an excited note 
sounded in Jackson’s voice. 
The geese swung off to leeward fol- 
lowing the great gander and the trail- 
ing younger birds dropped lower and 
undulated out of formation. Our de- 
coys awoke and gabbled until their 
hoarse chatter echoed across the bay. 
Once, three fell out towards our decoys. 
I felt my tense muscles twitch. The 
flock called them back. After tracing' 
one great circle about our island, the 
leaders’ wings stiffened. I saw their 
feet unfold. They pitched down to the 
water with a splash, four hundred 
yards away. I squirmed to get a better 
view through the thatch. “Keep down, 
they’ll swim in,” ordered Jackson. 
The twelve Canadas showed distinct- 
ly, heads erect and they swam slowly 
while they examined their new sur- 
roundings,. Then one neck writhed, 
skittering water over its back. An- 
other fluttered, setting its wings more 
to its taste. They began to feed. 
Lashing gusts were forgotten now as 
we lay like mummies. Then a. dark 
spot showed in the distance. At last, 
Howard was at work circling far 
around to leeward. Finally he began 
to push back and forth, gradually 
working in. The wary birds sensed 
his approach and swam towards us. 
They stopped feeding and bunched as 
they paddled slowly. Our tension grew 
while the open water shortened. Stiff 
necked now, they turned their heads, 
eying the boat and our decoys with fur- 
tive interrogation. My legs developed 
sudden cramps. My lungs seemed 
about to burst with stifled breath; and 
my heart thumped my ribs with horri- 
ble din. The twelve were startlingly 
close. I saw gray breast feathers ruf- 
fle in a wind puff. The leaders reached 
our chattering decoys. Then" one 
snake-like head writhed swiftly from 
side to side. “Shoot!” gasped Jack- 
son. We bounced erect and the geese 
burst up with crashing wings. His 
gun boomed. Two tumbled as his shot 
raked them. My vision was a blur of 
feathered bodies. One climbed up 
shrieking through open bill. Exulta- 
tion waved over me when my 1 shot 
struck it into a limp fall. Two flew 
escaping on my left. I swung and 
their 'outstretched bodies 'aligned for 
one precious instant as I fired. The 
first pitched into a smother of flying 
water. The other slanted 'suddenly, 
beaten askew by one shattered wing. 
That goose crashed into the waves. It 
bobbed instantly upright and scuttled 
away. Blindly I jambed shells into 
my gun and dropped it into a welter 
of spray. I whirled and s'aw six sur- 
vivors fleeing into the east. As we 
watched, one lagged and labored in the 
ruck. Hopefully we followed with our 
eyes but its brave heart buoyed its 
stricken body which faded into a 
dwindling speck. 
“There goes mine,” said Ted sadly, 
“I shot my first an instant after some 
one killed it.” He shook his head 
mournfully as we went out to gather 
our six birds. Over the water echoed 
Howard’s shouts from where Toils boat 
(continued on page 664 ) 
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