EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 197 
bed of sickness or a tented field, it is ever the 
same fair play, and admits no foolish distinc¬ 
tion. Despair and postponement are cowardice 
and defeat. Men were born to succeed, not to 
fail. 
March 21, 1854. At sunrise to Clam-shell 
Hill. River skimmed over at Willow Bay last 
night. Thought I should find ducks cornered 
up by the ice. They get behind this hill for 
shelter. Saw what looked like clods of plowed 
meadow rising above the ice. Looked with 
glass and found it to be more than thirty black 
ducks asleep with their heads in their backs, 
motionless, thin ice being formed about them. 
Soon one or two were moving about slowly. 
There was an open space, eight or ten rods by 
one or two. At first all were within a space 
of apparently less than a rod in diameter. It 
was 6J- A. M. and the sun shining on them, but 
bitter cold. How tough they are. I crawled 
far on my stomach and got a near view of them, 
thirty rods off. At length they detected me 
and quacked. Some got out upon the ice, and 
when I rose up all took to flight in a great 
straggling flock, looking at a distance like 
crows, in no order. Yet when you see two or 
three, the parallelism produced by their necks 
and bodies steering the same way gives the 
idea of order. 
