October, 1921 
FOREST AND STREAM 
441 
autumn mist which hangs over the 
jneadows at this time of year and circled 
high over us. Three of the birds sep- 
arated from the flock and swung directly 
over us. Howard tried both barrels on 
them and Charlie also discharged some 
ammunition but without any results. I 
took my chance as the flock was swinging 
away, aiming low and at a point several 
feet ahead of the departing birds. As 
the gun spoke one of the birds crumpled 
in mid air and came whirling down into 
a salt pool. The others decoyed prompt- 
ly and almost instantly to the dead bird 
and as they swung over the muck bar 
of the pool we gave them another volley, 
bringing down a cripple. The remaining 
bird came dead on over us at a good 
shooting range and we killed it also. 
I believe my first shot was the longest 
chance shot that I have ever taken and 
made good on during my entire expe- 
rience in upland or lowland gunning and 
proved conclusively to me that the smaller 
12 gauge is every bit as effective on long 
shots as the larger bores. 
Before we continued our way up the 
creek Howard brought out the tin lunch- 
can from the cabin of the boat and we 
had dinner, all the while commenting on 
the phenomenally long shot of my old 
Greenfield, double barrel. My gun up to 
this time had excited but little comment 
among the party as it was by far the old- 
est and most unprepossessing one of the 
entire arsenal, but from that time on the 
fancy and improved guns were relegated 
to a second place when it came to range 
discussion. It had won its right to honor 
among the baymen, even though it was of 
a less attractive polish and style. 
A good gun, after all, is the one that 
can produce results when the flocks are 
coming in or the flights of plover and 
snipe are scattered and wild and long 
chances are the only ones to pin the hope 
of a good bag on. I have gunned in 
many a party where the guns were of a 
variety of styles and cost and have found 
that there is but one way to judge the 
actual worthiness of any of them and that 
is by field trials alone. 
It is right and proper and I might also 
say natural for the sportsman gunner 
to take a pride in his gun, to invariably 
crave the gun with the fine finish and the 
beautiful engraving, but let me say con- 
clusively that all these are but secondary 
considerations to the bay gunner; what 
From etching by Roland Clark 
Black-ducks 
he wants most is a gun that will send the 
charge as far and as effectively as pos- 
sible. It is the shooting qualities of the 
piece that commands the attention of the 
sportsman. A good gun is a thing that 
money can not always buy and a sightly 
but unreliable piece is the worst decep- 
tion in the sportsman’s category of worth- 
less things. 
W E were standing in the dooryard of 
the ducking shacks one beautiful, 
warm afternoon in the early part of the 
season with time hanging heavily on our 
hands as we knew that there was abso- 
lutely no use gunning in bay or meadow 
blind in the afternoon during warm 
weather. There was a “cam” or calm 
hanging over the bay that had never be- 
fore been known by the oldest gunners 
for that time of year. The blinds were 
empty and most of the baymen were 
working their oyster and clam grounds. 
To pass away the time we were shooting 
at clam shells tossed by hand in the air. 
These make as good a substitute for clay 
birds as any that can be found, as there 
is just enough salt in the dried shells to 
make them brittle and easily broken ; a 
load of shot patterning fair on one of 
these shells will reduce it to dust on the 
instant. 
While we were shooting, a flock of 
“winter snipe” came over the channel be- 
fore the shacks, flying high and appar- 
ently bound for the far side of the island. 
Howard commenced whistling to them 
and finally succeeded in decoying them 
down to the far side of the creek or 
thoroughfare. Here was a fair test for 
all our guns, so lining up we ruled to 
shoot abreast of each other. Howard 
fired a charge of shot in the flock as they 
grouped along the far mud flats of the 
creek and raised them. As they took 
wing the bombardment commenced. I 
brought down one, crippled badly, with 
my left barrel after the rest of the party 
had ceased firing and at a distance which 
seemed out of reason. There was from 
that time on a call for my old hammer 
gun when there was any long range 
shooting to be done, although I feel safe 
in saying that I might shoot the rest of 
my life and not turn the same trick again. 
'T'HE next morning was ushered in 
with the same calm spell of weather. 
Pink and salmon-colored banners un- 
furled themselves across the eastern sky 
as we loaded the garvey with sneak- 
boats, guns, decoys and a lunch for the 
blind. There was a keen snap in the air, 
just enough to make the warm woolens 
very acceptable and that caused Howard 
to fill the Thermos bottle with steaming 
coffee against the first chill hours in the 
boats before the warming rays of the 
autumn sun had taken effect. 
Our blind was on a reedy shore line 
a few hundred yards below an old aban- 
doned house-boat, one of the relics of the 
ice storm of a year previous when a large 
part of the gunning shacks on the islands 
of Great Bay had been swept away. This 
storm was one of the worst in the his- 
tory of the bay. The Allen boys were 
caught in it and given up for lost by the 
people on shore. Three weeks they were 
cut off from the mainland as the unheard- 
of tide swept the place with mountains 
of ice piled against the house-boat. All 
the other house-boats on the bay islands, 
except those which were anchored with 
ship’s chains, as the Allen’s were, de- 
parted from their anchorage and were 
swept out of the inlet. 
The shore where we built our blind 
had been previously chosen by Howard 
and was by far the pick of the section. 
( Continued on page 471) 
A good bag 
Setting out decoys 
Geese decoys 
