EARLY SPRING IN MASSACHUSETTS. 299 
to time, in any part of the village, the sound of 
a gun fired at ducks. Yesterday I was wishing 
that I could find a dead duck floating in the 
water, as I had found musk-rats and a hare, and 
now I see something bright and reflecting the 
light from the edge of the alders five or six rods 
off. Can it be a duck ? I can hardly believe 
my eyes. I am near enough to see its green 
head and neck. I am delighted to find a per¬ 
fect specimen of the Mergus, merganser, or 
goosander, undoubtedly shot yesterday by the 
Fast Day sportsmen. I take a small flattened 
shot from its wing, flattened against the wing- 
bone, apparently. The wing is broken, and it 
is shot through the head. It is a perfectly 
fresh and very beautiful bird. As I raise it, I 
get sight of its long, slender vermilion bill (color 
of red sealing-wax), and its clean, bright orange 
legs and feet, and then of its perfectly smooth 
and spotlessly pure white breast and belly, 
tinged with a faint salmon, or a delicate buff 
inclining to salmon. .... I afterwards took 
three small shot from it which were flattened 
against the bill’s base and perhaps the quills’ 
shafts. This, according to Wilson, is one of 
the mergansers or fisher-ducks, of which there 
are nine or ten species, and we have four in 
America. It is the largest of these four, .... 
called water pheasant, sheldrake, fisherman 
