_are flying as high as do the big mallards 
just before the freeze-up. 
The game laws of Alberta are com- 
prehensive, and are enforced with a 
fair degree of strictness. The Migra- 
tory Bird Convention Act is now in 
force, and has meant a _ further 
strengthening of the government’s posi- 
tion in game conservation. 
ACCORDING to the present form of 
the Alberta Game Act, spring 
shooting of any sort is prohibited, the 
use of automatic shotguns is forbidden, 
and every sportsman is required to take 
out a license. The fee for non-residents 
is larger than that for residents of the 
province, the resident pays $2.25 for his 
bird license, while the non-resident must 
pay five dollars. These are but a few 
of the clauses of the act at present in 
force. Penalties for infractions of the 
Game Act range from $10 to $1,000. 
In addition to the Mounted Police, 
whose duty it is to enforce the Act, 
there are regularly appointed game 
guardians in every district. These are 
usually residents of the district, and 
know the country round about them 
well. Unofficially, a great deal depends 
on the character 
of the game 
guardian, for 
there are many 
occasions on 
which he must ex- 
ercise his discre- 
tion whether or 
not to report the 
case. For ex- 
ample, the law 
requires every 
hunter to carry 
his license with 
him. Frequently 
the hunter for- 
gets this, and is 
unable to produce 
it upon demand. 
This leaves the 
game guardian in 
a very difficult 
position, and his 
actions usually 
depend on his 
opinion as to 
whether or not the 
offender is telling 
the truth. The 
question of shooting on enclosed land is 
another difficult one, and has, in the long 
run, to depend on the willingness of 
_ the owner of the land to permit shoot- 
ing on it. Shooting from any vehicle is 
- strictly prohibited; this tends to mini- 
mize the number of accidents. Another 
valuable clause in this connection is 
that forbidding the carrying of a loaded 
gun in any vehicle. 
Ten years ago, when the act could 
: Page 597 
not be as strictly enforced as it is at 
present, the game hog had everything 
his own way. I have often seen one or 
two hunters in the old days—sports- 
men I cannot call them—go out to a 
chain of lakes ten or fifteen miles from 
home, and return next day with the 
back of their Ford piled level with the 
seat with ducks of all kinds. There is 
no excuse for this sort of wastefulness, 
and the present day sportsmen are pay- 
ing the penalty for it. 
EVERTHELESS the numbers of 
wildfowl are still enormous, and 
are slowly increasing, thanks to the new 
uniformity of the game laws in the 
United States and Canada. In some 
regions the ducks are so plentiful that 
they constitute a very serious annoy- 
ance to the farmers, for they enter the 
grainfields at night and eat or destroy 
great quantities of grain. When things 
come to such a pass the farmer may 
make special application to the Chief 
Game Guardian for a special permit to 
shoot the thieves. These farmers’ per- 
mits, and the permits granted to scien- 
tists making special collections of birds, 
are the only permissions granted for 

This unusually large mallard drake had a wing-spread of 36 inches 
shooting out of season for any purpose. 
For the past ten years—indeed, ever 
since I was big enough to hold a gun— 
I have spent a few days every fall 
among the lakes. A few experiences 
there will bear telling. Two duck sea- 
sons ago I was shooting at a point east 
of Beaverhills Lake, and had taken my 
station between two small lakes, each. 
full of excellent cover for ducks. I had 
fair luck in the morning, but not good 
enough to warrant my deserting my 
blind during the rest of the day. About 
ten in the morning I spied a lone duck 
coming down wind, quite low. He 
proved to be a shoveller, or “spoonbill,” 
as he is called in this country. He 
could not have been more than ten yards 
in the air as he approached the blind. 
I let him have it, head-on. I could see 
that he was hit; he staggered, and re- 
covered. Then he did the strangest 
thing I have ever seen a duck do. A 
second after I had fired he started to 
climb. Up he went—higher—higher— 
till he was a good two hundred yards 
in the air, and almost straight above 
me. Then he suddenly folded up his 
wings and collapsed, falling like a 
plumet just beside me. He struck the 
ground with such force that he burst. 
When I came to examine him I found 
him quite neatly cleaned. 
OU have some very satisfactory mo- 
ments among the lakes of Northern 
Alberta. Last fall my partner and I 
made an expedition on the opening day 
of the season to Half Moon Lake, some 
twenty miles from Edmonton. We had 
only moderately good luck to begin 
with, but we fin- 
ished the day in 
grand style. We 
were walking to- 
gether along the 
reeds on the 
east shore of the 
lake. The growth 
of water-plants is 
very thick and 
high there, and 
makes excellent 
cover for ducks. 
Suddenly, a 
good forty yards 
away, two big 
mallards jumped 
up out of the 
reeds and climbed 
for all they were 
worth. It was a 
long shot, and a 
very sudden one, 
for we had been 
rambling along 
smoking and talk- 
ing, and were far 
from ready, but 
we fired together, 
two big fellows splashed down into the 
water, stone dead. How we hit them 
I don’t know, for they came as a 
complete surprise. We recorded one 
casualty on our side, however, for my 
partner burnt his nose with his cig- 
arette, which he insists in wearing 
on the right side of his mouth, just 
where it always interferes with his 
shooting. 
(Continued on page 635) 
