296 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Feb. 19, 1910. 
time before sunset when we took up our decoys 
and worked our way out of the marsh to find the 
motor skiff waiting for us, and the sun still a 
little way above the western horizon. In the 
skiff, sheltered from the keen wind by the great 
canvas hood, we had a pleasant sail back to the 
house. 
The following day the choice of points so fell 
that we two again visited this island to the 
north, intending to shoot in a little black duck 
pond which often gives good shooting. The 
night before had been cold and a thin skim of 
ice covered all the sound. Up near the island 
which was our destination, this ice extended out 
from the shore for nearly a mile and was so 
strong that we were a little fearful that per¬ 
haps the motor boat would not be able to break 
its way through. However, the good judgment 
of the men managing the boat at last brought 
us reasonably close to the shore, we tumbled in¬ 
to our gunning skiff and broke ice for only a 
short distance to reach the mouth of the ditch. 
In the ditch there was no water, but it appeared 
that the men could shove the boat along over 
the soft mud, and indeed they did so as fast as 
a man could walk. When at length we ap¬ 
proached the little pond where we were to shoot, 
as we pushed in through the ditch, we started 
half a dozen black ducks from a little cove, and 
then a little further on fifteen or twenty. Though 
the water was low, we had no difficulty in reach¬ 
ing the blind, and again a southerly wind led us 
to choose the blind that faced to the eastward. 
It had taken some time to get to the place, and 
before we were tied out and ready for shooting 
it was half-past nine. The weather was not very 
cold, but the sky was gray and overcast, and 
sometimes a cloud of mist drifted over marsh 
and pond. It was a good gunning day. 
The first bird that came was, as might have 
been expected, a blackduck, which slipped quietly 
in over the marsh and then low over the water, 
so that he was not seen until he had passed well 
over the decoys. Then the younger man arose 
in his might and slew that blackduck, making 
a very good and long shot. This was followed 
by an interval of quiet, and then two blackducks, 
seen long before they reached us and offering 
the easiest of shots were ingloriously missed with 
four barrels, and at least one of the gunners 
looked around for a muskrat hole into which 
he might crawl to hide his shame. At 11 o’clock 
there were six birds down, four blackducks and 
two mallards, and the shooting had been rather 
disgraceful. About noon things became somewhat 
more active, and though there was not a little 
bad shooting, occasionally a pair were killed or 
three birds were secured out of a bunch of four, 
and the number of dead birds drifting south¬ 
easterly before the wind grew larger. Occas¬ 
ionally a blackduck coming in from the south 
would alight near a dead bird that was floating 
off, seeming to think it a living bird. Through 
the glasses 1 saw a single blackduck alight near 
a dead bird perhaps 150 yards off and swim up 
to it, bowing the head and moving head and 
neck from side to side, evidently making friendly 
overtures. 
We ate our lunch between twelve and one, and 
every now and then were obliged to put our eat¬ 
ables on the ground and pick up our guns, so 
as to be ready for birds that seemed to be ap¬ 
proaching. Now and then we got a shot, and 
now and then a bird fell. The sport was active 
enough all the time to keep us from getting cold 
or becoming weary. Several times birds that had 
not been centered, but hit only with the edge of 
the charge, flew by us and fell in the marsh. Un¬ 
fortunately we had no dog, and those that went 
a long distance before falling could not be re¬ 
covered. One of these was a great goose which, 
flying alone well up in the sky, was reached by 
a hard-pushed charge of shot, and gradually 
lowering his flight, came down far back in the 
marsh. 
About half-past two many birds seemed to 
feel that they wanted to get back to this pond, 
and they began to come in in good numbers. 
Sometimes three or four companies of half a 
dozen each would approach, and, of course, the 
shooting at the leading birds flared off all those 
w'hich were following. Yet, often the birds came 
one, two or three at a time and kept us watch¬ 
ing and constantly on the qui vive. After a little 
lull I had seated myself to fill my pipe, but was 
called up by the word “Mark, in front,” and 
looking through the blind saw coming low over 
the water and headed directly for the decoys 
a great mallard whose green head shone bright 
in the rays of the sun, which just then looked 
out from behind a cloud. As he approached, the 
drake was constantly calling in a low, earnest 
tone, and he suspected no evil until he flew di¬ 
rectly into a charge of shot and dropped lifeless 
to the water. 
It was soon after this, when we had both put 
down our guns and were discussing some of the 
events of the last few moments, that a blackduck 
suddenly appeared almost within arm’s length 
above the left hand side of the blind, turned and 
flew in front of it so close that^ he might have 
been killed with a club, and then dropping down 
close to the water, passed behind a little point 
and was not seen again. We stared after him 
with open mouths, neither being ready enough 
to snatch a gun and try to stop him. 
All through the day we had seen strings of 
geese flying toward the beach which separates 
the sound from the ocean, and not a few flocks 
had passed over the island, but always far to 
one side of the blind or else high in the air, a 
long way out of gun shot. Early in the after¬ 
noon, however, we heard far in front the faint 
calling of a goose, and watching for a little 
while saw a solitary bird coming toward us. 
While he was yet a long way off, John, crouch¬ 
ing among the reeds, began to call to him, and 
the goose lowered his flight to look everywhere 
for the companions whose voices he heard. 
Down he came, headed directly for the blind, 
and at length, passing a little to its left, my com¬ 
panion rose and fired, the charge hitting the 
bird hard, but too far back. The impact of the 
shot partly turned it around and so confused it 
that it turned over the marsh behind us, and 
swinging back flew almost over the blind, where 
I shot it and it fell actually against the reeds 
that formed the back of our shelter. 
As the sun fell lower in the western sky, the 
birds began to come in in greater numbers. Now 
it would be a pair that slipped in while we were 
watching some other ducks and were not seen 
until they were close to the decoys, and perhaps 
when we rose to shoot them would flare and fly 
off so irregularly that we both missed, or per¬ 
haps if we used a little more care, or stopped 
to consider the shot, each one of the birds wou'd 
crumple up and fall with a splash on the water. 
Although I have never been able to do it, I 
believe that to learn how to shoot ducks is not 
difficult, provided only one will take time and 
think carefully about each shot before he fires 
it. The reason that I cannot kill ducks, and am 
a hopelessly bad shot, is that I shoot too quickly. 
The theory of being deliberate, calculating the 
speed of the bird, putting up the gun and hold¬ 
ing well ahead I understand well enough, but I 
do not practice what I preach. I may begin the 
operation deliberately, but before it is half com¬ 
pleted I am seized with a panic lest the bird 
should get away, and by the time I am holding 
on him I pull the trigger instead of waiting to 
fire the shot until I have moved the gun one, 
two or three feet ahead of him. The difference 
between success and failure, I believe, lies just 
there. 
The water in the pond was very low, and I 
knew that it would take a long time to gather 
the birds, to pick up the decoys and to get the 
boat out of the pond and through the ditch to 
the open water of the sound. It was, therefore, 
long before sundown when I told John to pick 
up, and we loaded our things into the boat, and 
my companion and I started to walk across the 
marsh to the mouth of the ditch. This was a 
short cut, and when we reached the place we 
had to wait half an hour before the boat came. 
The wind was northerly, and after we had 
jumped on board and shoved out into water 
three or four inches deep, we hoisted the sail 
and in a few moments were bowling pleasantly 
along over the broad waters, watching the 
glories of the approaching sunset and talking 
over the incidents of the day. We had had a 
day of good shooting, though we did not then 
know the precise number of birds secured. 
Eor several days longer we stayed at this pleas¬ 
ant place, where, though the shooting was not 
always good, there was always plenty to see and 
to do. Once we took out with us a Chesapeake 
Bay dog, a good retriever and watched with in¬ 
terest the business-like way in which he brought 
his birds. 
Finally, when our time was up, we boarded the 
launch, whose bow was turned northward, and 
returned again to our accustomed pursuits in a 
big city. Oldster. 
Information Asked For. 
Commissioner Whipple has made a public re¬ 
quest for statements relating to the effects de¬ 
forestation or reforestation has had upon soil 
conditions and stream flow which have at any 
time come under the personal observation of 
citizens of the State. The commissioner would 
be glad to have facts with which anyone is 
familiar concerning springs, creeks, fertility of 
the soil, frequency of floods and low water 
marks, erosion of the hillsides, etc., caused by 
tree destruction. Any citizen knowing of a case 
affected by the cutting away of timber or the 
planting of trees would be doing the State a 
service by addressing a descriptive communica¬ 
tion to Commissioner Whipple about it. Infor¬ 
mation of this nature is being used in preparing 
data which will show the results brought about 
by the changing condition of forest areas in this 
State. Correspondence should be addressed to 
Janies S. Whipple, Forest, Fish and Game Com¬ 
mission, Albany, N. Y. 
