1084 
FOREST AND 
STREAM 
WITH THE GEESE AND BRANT OF PAMLICO 
HARDEST WORK IN THE WORLD IS GATHERING DECOYS, 
BUT IT IS MERE PLAY WHEN YOU ARE SUCCESSFUL 
By H. S. Humphrey. 
T HE great bodies of salt water off the coast 
of North Carolina, comprising Pamlico and 
Albemarle Sounds, are feeding grounds for 
countless thousands of water fowl from Novem¬ 
ber to April. One who enjoys this kind of shoot¬ 
ing is sure of excellent sport in these waters, if 
he plans carefully and obtains a good local guide. 
The water around Ocracoke, a small island at 
the southern end of Pamlico Sound, was chosen 
by the writer and a companion for a few days’ 
shooting recently, and it proved to be an excel¬ 
lent choice. 
We arrived about noon at the little town of 
Oriental, where the Captain, our host and guide, 
was at the dock with his power launch, ready 
for the trip to his island home. After a forty 
mile trip, with a stiff 
east wind blowing and 
the launch bucking or 
quartering a heavy sea 
all the way, we arrived 
cold and wet at the 
island. Here the Cap¬ 
tain had his camp. We 
were met by his cook, 
and everything was 
quickly and safely trans¬ 
ferred to the cabin, 
where a warm fire and 
a hearty meal awaited us. 
The little island con¬ 
sists of only a few acres, 
and is right in the heart 
of some of the best 
feeding grounds for 
geese and brant in east¬ 
ern waters. Stationary 
blinds are built arou ; 1 
the morning exploring the island and becoming- 
acquainted with the flock of tame live geese de¬ 
coys that were to play an important part in our 
sport during the next few days. 
At eleven o’clock the wind suddenly shifted to 
another quarter and the rain stopped. We now 
got our first long distance view of our surround¬ 
ings, as we could see little during the storm, and 
had arrived after dark the night before. 
Our chief desire was to see birds and, sure 
enough, there were flocks of them visible in 
every direction, as far as the eye could reach. 
Raft after raft of geese and brant, bedding on 
the water, on shoals, and on beaches of small 
neighboring islands, presented a sight as fine as 
any sportsman would wish to see. The geese 
were just beginning to move after the storm, so 
we made haste to start the afternoon’s shooting. 
A crate of live decoys was loaded on to the 
skiff with the wooden stool. We piled in and 
headed for an island two miles away. An hour 
to reach the blind, set some fifty wooden decoys 
and surround them with a semi-circle of about 
his, but brought down another at long range with 
his third shot. It took two more shots to finish 
this last bird—he was only winged. 
Out of the blind we climbed and waded around 
in that two feet of water to collect our birds. 
We climbed back as soon as possible, to be ready 
for anything that might come our way. In a 
short time a single goose, flying low, headed 
straight for the blind. On he came, making no 
investigations. He dropped carelessly among the 
decoys, and started to swim about. We watched 
him some little time, and then became suspicious. 
So we climbed out. But the plunge into the air 
he made when he saw us did not' take him very 
far, as he was an easy straightaway shot and 
came down at the first crack of my gun. 
Our next excitement—followed closely by keen 
disappointment—came when four geese headed 
toward us. They began to rise, circling around 
the blind, then suddenly they made off, and did 
not turn back even at the calls of our live decoys. 
Something was wrong. 
But neither of us had moved, and we were at 
a loss to know what had frightened them. After 
six more birds had done the same thing, we be¬ 
gan to investigate the cause of their suspicions. 
Our search convinced us that it must have been 
the reflection from a tin drinking cup on the 
shelf of our blind. And sure enough, after we 
had removed it, no more birds were scared away 
from the blind. 
the island, so'you may head in any direction from 
camp and find one properly located according to 
wind and weather conditions. 
These blinds are built over the water and are 
covered with rushes, and look more like packing 
cases on stilts than anything else. Inside they 
are most comfortable, being wind-proof and dry. 
They have a board seat, with a shelf in front and 
convenient places for shells, lunch, drinking 
water, pipes, tobacco, and other adjuncts of a 
shooting party. 
For miles in all directions the water covers the 
flats, to a depth of two or three feet at high tide, 
with a fall of nearly two feet. Perched in a 
blind, several miles from land, with every ap¬ 
pearance of being over deep water, you can climb 
down and find it hardly more than two feet deep. 
These conditions make the flats ideal feeding 
grounds for wild fowl. 
After an evening spent unpacking our duffle 
and getting our guns and shells ready, we turned 
in early. On the Carolina flats they seldom start 
after ducks before sunrise, waiting until then to 
get a line on what the wind and weather promise 
for the day. It takes time and work to put out 
a goose set, so they take as few chances as pos¬ 
sible on the weather, in deciding which blind to 
use for the day’s sport. 
We rose at daylight, and found such a gale 
blowing, accompanied by a heavy rain, that it 
was not possible to start immediately. We passed 
twenty live ones, and we were ready to send the 
guide off to a safe distance and begin operations. 
A flock of geese was already headed our way. 
Down we ducked. Peeping carefully through a 
small slit between the rushes of the blind, I could 
see them. But they held off much too far until 
our old gander decoy began to call them. Then 
they turned and started to circle our way, en¬ 
gaging in lively long distance conversation with 
the decoys. 
Finally they decided to join the flock on the 
water. As they were just about to settle down, 
we sprang up. 
The flock was headed by an old gander, and 
was flying in the familiar V-shape. They had 
gotten almost upon us before we discovered it, 
and why it was not warned by* some movement 
of ours, I never understood. The birds circled 
over and around us several times, keeping up a 
continuous conversation with our decoys, until 
after one rather long flight away from the blind, 
they suddenly turned, and, with wings spread and 
necks outstretched, made straight for the decoys. 
I whispered to my companion to take the birds 
on the left, and we held ourselves in readiness. 
It took the birds several seconds to come with¬ 
in range. As the first one dropped onto the 
water, we stood up. We delayed the few sec¬ 
onds necessary to take careful aim, and we each 
dropped a bird at the first shot. As they started 
away, I got my second bird. My friend missed 
By this time the wind 
was blowing hard from 
the west, and the sun 
was rather low on the 
horizon. The geese were 
returning to their night 
feeding grounds, flock 
after flock. All were fly¬ 
ing high, and those com¬ 
ing directly against the 
wind were making hard 
work of it. 
While we were watching the distant birds our 
decoys began to talk, and soon a flock of about 
a dozen was hovering above them. The visitors 
did their preliminary investigating in the pre¬ 
scribed goose manner, and finally spread their 
wings to settle in among our birds. We stopped 
five fine geese from that flock before they were 
out of range. 
This made a total of ten birds for the after¬ 
noon, and by the time we had waded out and 
brought them in, we saw the Captain on his way 
to the blind. So we called a halt for the day, 
well satisfied with our afternoon’s sport. 
The coldest work in the world is gathering live 
decoys at the close of a cold, windy, winter’s 
day. It had to be done, however, so we went 
about it rapidly, and soon had them all in the 
boat. To get back to camp, we ran up a small 
leg-o’-mutton sail, and made fine time before the 
heavy wind. Back at camp, it did not take us 
long to gather about the table, on which the cook 
spread out as fine a meal as hunter ever asked 
for. Our appetites were keen from the after¬ 
noon’s work combined with so much fresh air, 
and seldom have we enjoyed a meal more. 
For the next day we had decided to go in an- 
