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"VOOM >= 
562 
In writing te Advertisers mention Forest and Stream, 
have made in trying to get out where 
the snow was harder, but never an open 
tunnel where they went in. 
Would like to hear from some other 
comrade of the woods about this. 
Why do we never find the skeleton 
of a bear that died a natural death? 
They sleep through the winter in holes, 
hollow logs, stumps, under heavy brush 
piles, etc. Why don’t they leave their 
bones there? They undoubtedly die 
there sometimes. I have never seen nor 
heard of a bear skeleton being found 
in the woods. Have seen bones of 
nearly all other kinds of animals, but 
bears, no! Who has? Who knows 
what becomes of them? 
W. A. SUTFIN, Marysville, Calif. 
Blue-wing Teal land Trap 
Loads 
(Continued from page 531) 
Ducks were now coming to us in 
greater numbers, almost in flocks, and 
very close to the water. They came 
so suddenly and fast that we did not 
have many chances on the incomers, 
and it became again a case of back- 
breaking twisting around to get a go- 
ing-away shot, And we were. not get- 
ting results for the number of shots 
fired. 
SUDDENLY conceived an_ idea 
which I communicated to Hank. 
“Say, Hank, those ducks are coming 
too low down.” “Well, who is doing 
the flying?” said Hank. I suggested 
that next time a bunch came straight 
toward us low down we should both 
jump to our feet and wave our guns 
just before they came within range, 
supposing that they would raise up 
and give us some good shots going 
over high. Hank agreed. Hank al- 
ways agrees. 
About a dozen were circling over the 
north lake and threatening to cross 
over us. When they finally headed for 
us we waited until they were about 
fifty yards out, then both jumped up 
and wildly waved our guns. What a 
scramble! Some started to climb, oth- 
ers wheeled to right or left, and others 
came right on straight at us, and we 
became so confused that neither of us 
got a feather. But we steadied down 
very soon and picked on the high ones 
and found that our little stunt worked 
like a charm. We learned just the 
right time to expose ourselves in or- 
der to create the desired result. The 
easy shots were on those that tried to 
turn back. These seemed to stop dead 
in the air, and required very little lead 
to connect. 
More than once we had a good laugh 
at our own antics. When we com- 
pared our “stunt” to the precautions 
that are usually required to bag ducks, 
we must have looked queer to any dis- 
tant observer. We were supposed to 
be in a “blind.” An observer looking — 
our way would see two boobs suddenly 
appear out of nowhere, dance wildly 
about for a moment swinging guns, 
and then they would probably hear 
our shots, without being able to see 
what we were shooting at. 
WO gadwall were coming our way 
and this time we stayed in our 
blinds as those ducks usually fly high 
enough to suit the most exacting. We 
offered them some good doses of sixes 
and trap loads and both connected. 
Then came more blue-wings and with 
each flock that came we had to repeat 
our dancing exhibition. But as I said, 
it was getting the -desired result. Our 
bag was getting higher, mostly blue- 
wings. They are small, but who could 
wish for any nicer in front of you 
steaming on a platter with oyster 
dressing and sweet potatoes? Don’t 
get sore, I was only “reminiscing.” 
There came another bunch headed 
our way. Come on, Hank, let’s dance 
a while. Up we jumped and stopped 
three more. And so the afternoon 
wore away, with the shooting just con- 
sistent enough to keep us interested 
and wide awake. At sundown we 
must stop. Gathering up our ducks 
and shells we started for the car to 
review the results of our friends’ sport. 
They arrived shortly with a more 
varied bag than ours, tired legs and 
wide smiles. And Murray had more 
ducks than any of us. 
Combining our bag, we found that 
we had almost the limit, mostly blue- 
wings, with qnite a sprinkling of gad- 
wall and redhead. It is customary on 
all of our shooting trips to divide the 
bag equally among the members. We 
separated each kind of duck into as 
many piles and then divided these spe- 
cies equally among the members, so 
that each received the same kind as 
well as the same number. 
HEN this ceremony was over La- 
,Bine gave us a startled look and 
felt in the back of his hunting coat, 
saying that he must have left one duck 
there by mistake. He pulled out an 
enormous greenhead mallard in full 
plumage, and dropped it on the ground 
with apologies for the oversight. 
Now, those blue-wingss, gadwall and 
redheads certainly made a generous 
looking bag as they lay there on the 
ground in four assorted piles. But 
listen, when LaBine dropped that old 
greenhead, and he lay there with that 
long green, glossy neck stretched out, 
with the beautiful markings of the back 
and wings exposed to us, he looked like 
a king lost in the desert. All of those 
other ducks passed into insignificance, 
at least for the moment. They just 
faded out of the picture. Of course, 
we all registered cool disdain and po- 
lite indifference and a few other things 
and suggested that the possessor toss 
It will identify you. 
