May 7, 1910.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
735 
five or thirty birds in a day. Many passenger 
pigeons nested in the timber near the Des Moines 
River. One could see perhaps a hundred flocks 
in a day. But there was never any great flight 
of these birds up the Des Moines valley. There 
was not food enough for the millions of pigeons 
that were along the Mississippi River and east 
of it. 
The question is often asked, “What has be¬ 
come of our game birds? Have they been de¬ 
stroyed by the great army of hunters?” In order 
to have plenty of game there must be good breed¬ 
ing grounds. There are no breeding grounds 
left. At one time Northwestern Iowa was the 
home of game birds, but it is no longer their 
home. A few ducks, now and then a few wild 
geese and cranes, drop down on their way north 
and south. There are very few acres of wild 
land for the prairie chickens to nest in, and if 
they build nests in or near the cultivated fields, 
they are mostly sure to be destroyed. The water 
has been drawn from the lakes and marshes by 
the great “public drains” so that there is little 
chance for the wildfowl to feed and rest. There 
are to-day no burnt prairies for the golden 
plover to roam over in search of their food, and 
but few wild prairies where the upland plover 
can build their nests. I have never known of 
a black brant being killed in Iowa. They seem 
to be a Western bird, and are to be found along 
the Pacific coast. Like the gray brant they go 
in very large flocks. I think I have seen as many 
as 500 in a flock out on the coast of California. 
The gray brant is found in large numbers on 
both the Atlantic and the Pacific coasts. A great 
many of them are killed at or near Eastham on 
Cape Cod. About Eastham seems to be a great 
stopping place for brant on their way north and 
south. I do not think they are apt to fly far 
inland except now and then a stray bird. I was 
fortunate enough to kill a fine specimen of a 
brant near the Des Moines River about twenty- 
five years ago. In the spring of 1881 I killed 
a wavy-winged goose. It is the only one I ever 
saw or heard of in this part of the country. It 
must have been a stray bird that came up this 
side of the mountains with a flock of white- 
fronted geese. In the fall of 1880 I was shoot¬ 
ing canvasbacks and redheads between East and 
West Okoboji lakes. The shooting was good. 
The ducks were flying low over the causeway, 
and when watching a flock of canvasbacks that 
were coming toward me, I noticed a strange duck 
with them. As the birds went by I took pains 
to kill the stranger, and when my dog retrieved 
the bird I found I had killed a fine specimen of 
an eider duck, a bird seldom seen inland. I 
mounted the bird and placed it in my collec¬ 
tion of the birds of Iowa, as it was killed' in 
Iowa. 
When I came into Iowa I did not expect 
to find canvasbacks and redhead ducks. I had 
always supposed that they were an Eastern duck. 
Mr. Clarkson, of the old Iowa State Register, 
told me that I would find no canvasbacks in 
Iowa and expressed great surprise when I told 
him that I had already killed a great many of 
those fine birds in Northwestern Iowa. He 
thought I must be mistaken in my birds, and 
when I told him of my shooting on the Chesa¬ 
peake Bay and other Eastern points, he gave up, 
but said it was the first time he had ever known 
that canvasback ducks were to be found in Iowa. 
Northwestern Iowa had some of the best feed¬ 
ing grounds for canvasback and redhead ducks 
that I ever have seen. Such fine wild celery 
beds as were to be found in the northern part 
of East Okoboji Lake and in Elbow Lake I 
never saw in any other lake. There was enough 
wild celery gone to waste every year to feed 
hundreds of thousands of ducks. There was 
some wild rice, but the rice never grew as fine 
as it did in many of the Minnesota lakes. 
One day in October of 1882 I killed seventy 
canvasbacks. The average weight was three and 
a half pounds each. It seemed to me that I 
never had seen such a fine lot of ducks. I sent 
most of them to friends in New York city. They 
pronounced them the finest canvasback ducks in 
every way that they had ever had on their tables. 
I think that they were men well able to judge, 
as they had shot on the Chesapeake Bay and on 
the coast of North Carolina for years. One of 
them controlled the much celebrated Maxwell’s 
Point, on the Chesapeake, said to be one of the 
“but, mummie, how can they prevent birds 
FROM NESTING?”—LONDON OPINION. 
finest shooting points in America. Up to the 
year 1882 the great duck pass east of Spirit Lake 
(town) was, I think, the greatest pass for mixed 
duck shooting in the United States. I have killed 
canvasbacks, redheads, mallards, bluebills, Amer¬ 
ican widgeons, gray ducks, pintails, blue and 
green-winged teal, hooded merganser, scaup and 
a dusky duck all in the same day. At the pass 
at Elbow Lake there were more canvasbacks and 
redheads. Many people call the redheads, can¬ 
vasbacks. They look very much alike, except 
about the head. The canvasback has a bill like 
a Canada goose, while the redhead’s bill is flat 
and of a bluish color. I think the canvasback is 
the swiftest flyer of all the duck tribe. I have 
never seen any bird whose flight could equal the 
flight of a canvasback. It has been estimated 
that they are able to fly at the rate of 125 miles 
an hour. I have timed the flight of canvasbacks 
many times and think the estimate is very near 
correct. 
Shooting ducks on a good “pass” is the finest 
of all shooting. The swift flight of the birds 
over the “pass” gives the shooter a chance to 
show how well he can handle the gun, and the 
man who can kill two ducks out of every five 
shots shoots well; that is, taking the shots as 
they come to him. It is very seldom that you 
will see a shooter kill three out of five shots. 
.The shooter may shoot that well for a short 
time, but to keep it up all day would be wonder¬ 
ful shooting. I once made forty-five straight 
shots without a miss at the Spirit Lake pass, 
but I selected my shots and took no chances. 
It is no pleasure for me to shoot in that way. 
I like to take all chances, right and left, where 
the ducks are in range. 
I have often had men ask me where to hold 
the gun on swift-flying ducks. I say to them 
when on a pass, to watch some gray-haired old 
shooter and see how perfectly he does his work. 
Notice that bunch of ducks coming toward him. 
When they are in range, up goes his gun. It 
is held from three to ten feet ahead of the first 
ducks. His finger touches the trigger; down 
comes the duck and quick as lightning the gun 
is pointed in front of another duck. The second 
barrel goes; the duck falls like the first—killed, 
shot in front of the wings. That man has but 
few wounded ducks. He knows where to hold 
his gun. And he also knows that one shot in 
front of a duck’s wings is worth three behind 
them. The “duck pass” at Elbow Lake was at 
one time a great place for deep water ducks. 
There was a great quantity of wild celery in 
each end of the lake. The canvasbacks and red¬ 
heads, with a sprinkling of bluebills, were con¬ 
tinually trading back and forth over the pass, 
and that made the shooting fine. At one time 
the ducks were so plentiful that another gentle¬ 
man and myself killed 240 in one day. There 
seemed to be no limit to the ducks feeding in 
the lake. 
In the eighties I went shooting with David 
King, J. R. Roosevelt, S. S. Howland, of New 
York, and L. W. Smith, of Algona, to Bancroft 
Lake in the northern part of Kossuth county. 
There were some large rice marshes at the south 
end of the lake. We found the mallard ducks 
so plentiful that we killed 125 before breakfast. 
And when we left the rice marshes the ducks 
were just as plentiful as when we went there 
and commenced to shoot. At the same time 
there were some of the largest flocks of blue¬ 
wing teal that we had ever seen. We did not 
shoot any teal, as we were after mallards alone. 
When mallard ducks are able to get plenty of 
wild rice or buckwheat, they get very fat and 
are a fine table bird. They are very fond of 
rice or buckwheat and will fly long distances 
after that kind of food. 
1 do not think that the dusky duck, some¬ 
times called black mallard, was ever plentiful 
west of the State of New York. I did not ex¬ 
pect to find any dusky ducks in Iowa, and was 
very much surprised when out shooting with 
Mr. Perry Belmont, of New York, to see him 
kill one that was with a flock of mallards. It 
was a very handsome bird—as fine as any I had 
ever killed in New England. Since then I have 
seen perhaps ten or twelve more killed here. 
All were fine birds. The drakes and ducks of 
the dusky ducks are colored alike and are about 
the same size. At one time the beautiful wood- 
ducks were very plentiful along the Des Moines 
River. They have been on the decrease for some 
years and must have gone to some other country. 
In the spring and fall great flocks of cranes, 
Canada, white-fronted and Hutchins geese pass 
over Northwestern Iowa, but seldom stop, lliere 
are too many people. Wild game will not stop 
where the land is so good that every quarter 
section of it is made into or will make a fine 
farm. Wild game must have wild land in order 
to thrive. The wild game will grow less as 
civilization advances. No one has as yet been 
able to give a good reason for the disappearance 
of the passenger pigeon. All at once they were 
