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Y, Pe a ae eee ie et eee a an Cree a NF SEU CAD Near ad Bee (ete Ley Rey fe MENS Ae Ay Des i ent nenn ns eRCAehSDyy Use Hota coer ng hUNaES ATS AN ANAR Rey a AFA ounemlury Raat Len aay Sea alee etree CoD PAE CE ny 88 mo gent or ecclesia vieuaein Asked ache paren ye it ier Stir ered Coe eee) Sparen ac arer Teen een eayete Se NED EME Moe Gos tem tae CREEP Be oS Se ereces tata Sereeee Serer beet Sater eres treet res et Re Maths Etec ee Tie bee eet a ODS Dohed Lee wee ne Te eee ar Rd aE en Ne ng ER MOR INNS Ree UN RE DER Bytes On Re MS ERE OT RE NM A Meng flee Kern * ofp vrine € 6 eer dne ete t Soe ae ee ee ieee ye err ici re er errr fae ee ed ape 8 artes NM Ree nae Ane Vw ten Dak eR neta. ayes Neng Syd betta NY NED heey wate OgNS Se ere eter wreones Poe ARAB R rl RAD tae a HP peep onne RelA Pintah at WIL ay Oe Ped tebe Pn er eer are et ar ee eT ee wrt vate ere eeene on TENNER ‘x a Ry US INEN EY en tw ten eee Cee etree Somer iat} OP Bete eee at ee atest or ae Ener Chee tate nee ne eee ge OT EO are Bp el enee at at Pek CF Ape ere Fe EOP YS Later’ POS Ne Fee Poe fete ene a ee ee ee Cee ee ee Se ne ere ee ee a ee OE ne ee oe Re a aed PAST PROP R eS Se em Let eae ete teas TSN VS COANE IT 8S Neate Soe Ty PM eke te ee ON EM RN: ewe Set nt Cente T Pe ern Ey eNotes abet vty Hy A aE MEA ONAN Lat eS eng eS Men eR rete eat NUE EAL TE MLE oye gate Pee uA a RR NR eeerares Lowey notre es Perera nent eee ee CN CCL ener FY Fa end a eesy eves re Leeks teen ge oe nee Sa Sp ayiiee choy PENMAN A ay waa, Tate ay tmtn et tee eon OLN OP Nee et ee, ete ta ty, Ses eR oy een Cire eter retest aca PEL PY eT A Dea ar ee tea TY ae ety NITY EV! eer het ek} roe ERE E NS ene ay ore ane! ee at ae ane deten= SPARRO Dede Rated wrt t eh Luft ede Cafe Shadi Wed Ant a erend arin aOhs Fa lsted me © I ey er ae eee eee one amr ay Ah Sion 6 Po EE Tad PMA ER Fv Fd Pr eiteentee Sere exert ed CaP Bd een ee Paya Tete ete Vere eee Oe Cee men ry tet Tere ROL NETO Seed HONE ee we NER hot Se Later OMe ete ENA at MeN ng Satna, pe ee tee parte rue reve che akg NS Ee, ek vot ete ee PN eae Neciietibereiitrue My sue y= Ce psim\wncant Zar ety Ney hegre ON eer eM eeete eem etetan EN hey FP Meee ees aang BNd a oben, LN ea ete Nee ete tee “Ne ‘ aS Raat i sete sete SANT eRe gete te Te es one te Sy ES a eR EN Td etn Meee Ar Rs sorains ny PRUNE Te Me eg $M EN sens one + sean it rn oes wk PEPER ERM Hg nee EU HF Sr a es ree penn Pe es egyenay es sens iy Na Pos ehe Sova geet Pee eee ney ESE ANN fuee sy age Seer een vo bea . eerenenery eek ere emate ds uekew es Stee ped Sires SRPMS eka coking ss Meee: ede ee en tees Ye sekca yea eCont Da re ne STENT ag atta ny ts eeeeng ae aE Votoms ee Sete he ee iy ved ese pt eem Rete LBP fated te artes tor Ee ee Le shaves Say Aerts PIN VS HD avoir es Seereren peter ee BOP ae eee eats See eos eae ee ee Regea hey eh mare ine hock Maw hander OPERAS DEE RH De te LS bank ee Om ERAN a eee one earner nar ef mah tg AI 2 ee re ere aor e Seenwry ren) Recess any Ree UNCER OTES en aeegsthein eu cpeniese eter ab itee Ma ere eS Peery Aaah Seta cette ten tes ere Pn OURS wae ce ane nee Tee RP EIS AES RR ees Poe ee Foecees as bet noo wet owe Bren reedettene ver AS Ce a So ER FEY Se pysicegnser maint ire ay PO ae an ath na aah om snr tincne earceee ek oye: Pitan neee a eae rary’ Pet dat terete a wae ty bee Uv vstaneng 34 EAD TPT TINT Hist tee etn see teri te cutee fen Te aoe treet ac bre gyoruecy TAL SD AL TN BAT AR ESD SED ie RR SUN UT ODA ATS Ds key THE AMERICAN SPORTSMAN’S LIBRARY EDITED BY CASPAR WHITNEY THE WATER-FOWL FAMILY «GS es HERS L. C. SANFORD aa t ee oo ke BL BISHOP i tars = ; “AND es, T. S. VAN DYKE . Neto Bok : MACMILLAN | COMPANY ooga aHT avo aoe: Stina 9 *? fie WATER-FOWL PAS ICY BY | Daal ee SANFORD En B BISHOP : AND i Sa VANEDY KE New Work THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN AND CO., Lt. 1903- All rights reserved THE LIBRARY OF \ CONGRESS, 2. \ 4 2. i) Two Copies Received ~~ Moe AK a Ge APR 22 1903 oo “ Copyright Eniry 12-1803 CLASS & XX. No. Gc nei | COPYSE) oe COPYRIGHT, 1903, By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped March, 1903. Norfoood Jpress J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. ee . ece eo # be © © ° ee e s Sis 2 ec econ s ee e ce e e e © €&e ecee ee © chee ery Cha CHA ee Mig 8 ve « wes « ecw e . e «¢ Fee (Osa al A) e . « « « CONTENTS WATER-FOWL By L. C. SANFORD PAGE INTRODUCTORY ‘ . 5 ' ‘ 5 “ 5 I CHAPTER I DUCK-SHOOTING , , A 5 s 4 0 ‘ 6 CHAPTER II DUCK-SHOOTING (continued) . : ° . . 4 - | 50 CHAPTER III DUCK-SHOOTING (continued) . . : A : ° - 118 CHAPTER IV DUCK-SHOOTING (continued) . - - 5 - - 190 CHAPTER V GOOSE-SHOOTING . : > > ° 2 5 ° - 205 CHAPTER VI THE SWANS . ° ° 5 : - ° 5 : + 258 Vv vi Contents CHAPTER VII PAGE RAIL-SHOOTING . 0 5 ; C C C S 5 PASS) CHAPTER VIII SHORE-BIRD SHOOTING. : : 3 . e 3 =) 302 CHAPTER IX SHORE-BIRD SHOOTING (continued) . ° 5 ° » 330 CHAPTER X SHORE-BIRD SHOOTING (continued) . ° : S Sele CHAPTER XI SHORE-BIRD SHOOTING (continued) . ° . ° - 451 CHAPTER XII SHORE-BIRD SHOOTING (continued) . : : . - 480 CHAPTER XIII SHORE-BIRD SHOOTING (continued) . * stasis - 489 CHAPTER XIV SHORE-BIRD SHOOTING (continued) . : ° : - 406 Contents vil THE WATER-FOWL OF THE PACIFIC COAST By T. S. VAN DYKE CHAPTER I PAGE THE DUCKS . ° . . . ° . ° . - 503 CHAPTER II THE GEESE . > 5 - 5 5 . . ° = 532 CHAPTER III THE WADERS AND SHORE-BIRDS . ° ° ° ° 5 BS) DIAGNOSES OF FAMILIES AND GENERA THE WATER-FOWL 6 c . ° . . . - 565 THE RAILS . ° 5 ° ° . ° ° . Sy THE SHORE-BIRDS . ° . ° ° ° ° 6 Ye INDEX : : : 5 5 : 5 . ° - 5581 hah) mt Rf (yp cen ee aie I>. Se Res s Ae LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS OVER THE DECOYS . ° . Lrontispiece — Photogravure PAGE RED-HEADS AND CANVAS-BACKS . ° E . - a) Fe ALONG THE MARSH . ° - : : : eeOZ Dusky OR BLACK Ducks (Maleand Female) . : 2.80 SHOVELLERS (Male and Female) . : 5 5 - - 106 OLpD-squAws (Male and Female) . : 5 : 5 LBA HOODED MERGANSERS . . : 5 : . : LOS SNOW GEESE > 4 5 5 - 2 5 5 ZO WHITE-FRONTED OR GAMBEL’S GEESE : - 5 2 CANADA GEESE . - 5 4 ; - ° 5 250 SHOOTING YELLOWLEGS ON LONG ISLAND . : : 6g Aas KinG RAIL. ; c : : 5 : ° . - 290 AMERICAN OR WILSON’S SNIPE . 3 : : 5 - 344 GREATER YELLOWLEGS : j : : : ° - 408 WILLETS 6 é : : ; 5 C : : - 422 BLACK-BELLIED PLOVER : s < 5 : 2 = 452 GREEN-WINGED TEAL (Male and Female) . ° - - 504 MALLARDS . : . . : ° ° . : * 515 - BAY SNIPE-SHOOTING . . . : ° ° . gto BLUEBILL . 5 . : ° . . . - 560 OST ay a2 here eer Pitted tad Meet rae ih ugly, te THE WATER-FOWL FAMILY Tue Anatide, or family of wild fowl, comprises the swans, geese, sea-ducks, river-ducks, and mer- gansers. From time immemorial this group of birds has been most important in its relations to man. Divided into various subfamilies, it con- tains nearly two hundred species, about sixty of which are North American. The peculiar char- acteristics of these birds are well known: all have heavy bodies, and most of them long necks; the bill varies much in shape in the different species, but is usually broad, covered with a soft skin and with a hard nail at the tip; it is often provided with little comb-like processes situated on its inner edges, which assist in sifting the food from its common environment of mud and sand. The tongue is large and fleshy, adapted for all sorts of water-vegetable material and various crus- tacea and shellfish which comprise the diet. The windpipe varies curiously in the different indi- viduals, being convoluted and twisted, thus afford- ing the volume of voice noted particularly among ‘some of the geese and swans. The legs are short, the forward toes webbed, the tarsus and feet cov- B I 2 The Waterfowl Family ered with a naked, scale-like skin, nicely adapting the bird for water. The wings vary in length in comparison to the body, but are commonly rather short and specially strong, calculated for speedy, powerful flight, making possible the long, tedious migration peculiar to many of the species. The plumage is thick and dense, consisting of short, soft, outer feathers over a skin coating of down. In many of the species the color is plain, and of a protective character well suited to the haunts of the bird —a condition which is regularly true of the female and the young. The males of a number of varieties of ducks, however, when full-plumaged in the late fall and winter, are unsurpassed in beauty of coloring; an attire that is retained until incubation has begun. About this time, the birds moult, the male assuming a dress more or less closely resembling the female. During the moulting period for a while many of our water-fowl are helpless, the large pinions of the wing having been lost. Now every protection against the depredations of the natives and other enemies is essential, and hence nature’s provision in the change of color. The males of many of our water-fowl, after incubation has been estab- lished, separate from the females, and gather by themselves on neighboring bodies of water, where greater security is afforded than the shores and marshes selected for nesting purposes could give. The Water-fowl Family 3 The female attends to all of the duties of nesting and hatching, bringing up the brood, and leading them south when an all-provident nature directs the weary flight. In the different species of geese and swan both birds divide the duties of nesting. The migration of our water-fowl is one of the wonders of instinct; gathering in flocks some- times of vast proportions, under the leadership of experienced pilgrims, the ranks proceed on a straight, true course, probably often making no stops until the permanent quarters of the fall and winter have been reached. This trait is most marked among the more powerful flyers, the geese and swans. From the breeding-ground to the last stopping-place, and all along the line where cir- cumstances have permitted, this vast army has been beset with destruction on all sides. The Eskimo and the Indian have robbed their nests, destroyed the young, and killed them when help- less from their moulting. Formerly the geese were slaughtered in thousands at this time, and salted for winter use, actually, in some instances, herded together and the entire body killed. Once within the boundaries of the United States, their persecution is incessant; every device known has been used against them, with results that within the past few years the diminution in numbers in many of the old resorts has been most apparent. From the remotest north to the tropics, wherever 4 The Waterfowl Family man has gone, he has found these birds and waged a relentless warfare on them. Recently I heard of a device which has been common for years in southern Mexico. Not far from the city of Mexico, the larger lakes, which are the winter home for countless thousands of wild fowl, are leased for large sums to Mexicans who gun for the market. Cannon are placed in favorable posi- tions along the shore, and for days the birds are baited within range, then a discharge is fired into a mass of ducks, and literally hundreds are killed. This has been a local practice for many years. No birds are more essential to man than the wild fowl; they serve him with food and in many regions with clothing; the soft downy skin of the elder being regularly used by many of the Eski- mos for undergarments, while the down of these birds is an important article of commerce in many countries of the north. In Norway and Iceland the breeding eiders are protected. The islands are carefully watched and every facility afforded the sitting ducks. Under these circumstances the bird can regularly be lifted from the nest while the eggs are removed, a sufficient number being left to hatch. In some instances these birds actually nest within the natives’ houses, and there is a story of a Norwegian who gave up his fire- place to an eider. As opposed to the wanton destruction which threatens our water-fowl almost The Water-fowl Family 5 universally, it is specially pleasant to see these instances of protection. In countries where parks and gardens afford refuge, the wild duck are always quick to take advantage. In the United States, the Yellowstone Park is the best instance of this protection, and here every lake along the highways is patronized by ducks and geese as tame and unsuspecting as barnyard fowl. In one instance I saw a flock of Canada geese circle around one of the hotels, and alight in the yard, where they fed without the slightest concern. About the same hour daily this flock of fifteen or more would appear for their evening meal. Many different varieties of wild fowl are seen in various parts of our country in a state of do- mestication, particularly where decoy shooting is afforded. The Canada goose quickly makes the most of circumstances and poses as a certain lord among the domestic ducks and geese, often mating with a barnyard goose. The offspring have the general coloring and characteristics of the wild bird, but like most hybrids are regularly barren. This is a present instance of the relationship of our barnyard geese and ducks to their wild ancestors. The progenitors of the domestic race can be traced to a comparatively few species. Among the most notable are the bean goose, the mallard, and mus- covy ducks; these being the varieties most common in countries where ancient civilization existed. CHAPTER I DUCK-SHOOTING An almost irresistible desire comes over most men, at times, to change the routine of civilized life for the quiet and solitude of the wild. For- est, field, and waters all offer their inducements, in many instances combined with hardship and fatigue; and yet to him who loves it, actual suf- fering often only adds to the satisfaction of the reward, doubly pleasing as the result of endurance and patience. With a large number of those indi- viduals to whom the gun and all that goes with it is dear, the wild duck brings up the pleasantest recollections and anticipations. The ponds and lakes of the North, and the prairie sloughs, come before him, where they nested and spent the sum- mer, restless at the time of approaching fall for the southern migration. He remembers drifting down the river with a gentle current, amid Octo- ber foliage, to where alders and willows lined the bank and darkened the water; where he saw the ripple that betrayed the presence of wild duck, before they took wing with frightened splashing. Early mornings come to his mind, when he break- 6 Duck-shooting | fasted before dawn, and pushed out from the shore into the narrow bay, its surface hardly ruffled by a light breeze. Dark lines marked the points of marsh, as yet indistinct; a flock of birds leaving the water made the first sound; then the soft whistling of overhead wings. Quietly the boat moved on; finally the blind was reached. Then the few minutes at sunrise, of anticipation, the first birds, a line coming out of the east, getting blacker and bigger, soon in range over him; the first shot, and the splash of a fallen bird. Wet and cold days are recalled, when to lie low in the blind was misery, and even the excitement of watching a steady flight of birds could not warm him. Or perhaps, hidden in the ice behind a few decoys, he waited at a hole of open water, too cold to shoot, though ducks were plenty. Yet few men could appreciate better than he a blazing fire or the comfort of plain food and a rough bed. With winter’s waning came the procession of wild fowl from the South, to tarry until spring; then the line far overhead leading north—his last glimpse. The methods by which wild fowl are hunted vary in different sections of our country. Shoot- ing over decoys is probably the most universal means. In those locations where birds are accus- — tomed to the wiles of man, their cunning is a match for his skill, and his skill is great. They 8 The Waterfowl Family know the points and blinds, and decoys do not easily deceive. Hence the greatest care in every detail is necessary. The gunner’s place of con- cealment should be carefully prepared; it must closely resemble the surroundings, and be as inconspicuous as possible. In places where the slightest change would be noticed, sink boxes are often placed ; blinds sunk below the surface level, on sand-bars or flat marshes. Used in places ex- posed to tide and high water, baled out and care- fully banked up with sand when occasion requires, next to the battery it is most effective as a blind. For those birds whose haunts are the open bays and who shun the marshes, the battery is em- ployed, and when well managed this means is the deadliest of all. Shallow water and quiet weather are necessary for its use. A hundred or more decoys surround it, placed to accommodate the gunner and bring in the birds at the most con- venient angle, which for a right-hand man is the left side. In case ducks come in to the right, a quick gunner can generally swing into a posi- tion to shoot by throwing both feet out of the battery and turning to the right. In all kinds of duck-shooting the most successful gunner is the one who keeps out of sight all the time. This is specially true in shooting from a sink box or bat- tery. While watching for ducks under these cir- cumstances, the eye should be just above the level Duck-shooting 9 of the box, and when the birds are sighted there should be no motion; the slightest movement often attracts attention and startles, while if a gunner remains perfectly still often no notice is paid to him, even though exposed. In shooting from blinds, if possible birds should be watched through the blind, and not over the top. It is a great ad- vantage to keep the game in sight. In this way a gunner is more likely to know exactly the time to shoot. The habit of looking up and then drawing back is almost sure to attract the atten- tion of a decoying bird and shy it off. As to when to shoot over decoys, it is often possible to judge more or less of a bird by the way in which it hails; flying low down, the chances of its de- coying are much better than if the flight is high. On general principles, the man who lets a bird come in as close as it will, can choose his time and distance. No kinds of shooting are subject to more variations than duck-shooting. While under favorable circumstances, over decoys, it may be an easy matter to shoot well; when wind and storm are complications, the greatest skill is required. Few birds fly with more speed. Few thumps bring a greater satisfaction than that of a falling duck folded up from some point way over- head. , As to the question of guns. Some years ago the ten-bore was the popular gun for ducks, but 10 The Waterfowl Family sportsmen have generally come around to the twelve as the most satisfactory, except in a few instances. The man who shoots consistently a twelve-bore gun will find it the best for all duck- shooting. There are a few places where over- head shooting is to be had at birds beyond reach of the twelve-bore, and eight and even four bore guns are shot. But excuses for using large bore guns can seldom be found, and they should be relegated to the past. In many sections of our country, clubs fitted out with all possible comforts are the resort of the duck hunter. Provided with a trained gun- ner who manages the blind and sets the decoys, who watches and calls, duck-hunting is a different story. In one of the clubs near Boston, where duck and goose shooting is had occasionally, the blind is built as an addition to the club-house, and when any luckless birds are sighted a bell touched by the man on the lookout rings throughout the establishment, and members are summoned to the guns at any hour of the day or night. In the South the most desirable locations on the Chesa- peake and on the bays of Virginia and North Carolina are occupied by clubs. Conspicuous among them are the Carroll’s Island, the Narrows Island, and the Currituck clubs. In the days of canvas-back on the Chesapeake the Carroll’s Island Club was one of the most famous in existence, Duck-shooting II and the old records of ducks and ducking days there would fill many an interesting volume. As- sociated with these clubs is the Chesapeake Bay dog, a breed in which the old Newfoundland was marked. Few dogs possess the wisdom and courage of these, and when well trained they are unequalled as retrievers. Of a dirty sedge color, the dog lies close to the blind, motionless, but ever watchful. After the bird has dropped, he waits the word and then is off. Few cripples escape him. He follows a wing-broken duck with a persistence in some instances wonderful, judges the direction of the diving bird, and gradually closes in on it. When two birds fall, the wounded one is selected. Marsh grass can- not conceal from his nose a crippled duck. He ’ knows the live decoys as well as you do. Even a wounded swan stands small chance with him. These are the traits a good dog possesses, but a good Chesapeake dog is rare. With all the facilities that can exist for the gunner, duck- hunting in the eastern United States is getting more and more to be an art. Wild ducks cer- tainly seem to adapt themselves to circumstances. They have measured the range of modern guns and smokeless powder, yet their cunning certainly adds to the satisfaction of getting them. In the far West, where nearly all ducks exist in abun- dance and shooting is easy, the character of the 12 The Water-fowl Family sport changes. There is more satisfaction in one Long Island black duck than a dozen Dakota red-heads. But wherever seen there are few more welcome sights to many sportsmen than a flock of wild ducks. FROM PASSES This method represents, more than any other, fairness and skill; it consists in waiting for the birds along the line of flight, and can be practised wherever the flocks take any particular course over land. The lakes and sloughs of our Western states offer the greatest facilities for pass shooting, although in the East in various places along the coast, where narrow bars or breakwaters lie be- tween the feeding-grounds and resting-places, the same means may be employed. When the birds : are obliged to cross these points in locations where there is much gunning, the danger is quickly appreciated, and they soar high up in approaching, making the shots long ones. In places along the New England coast this shoot- ing can be obtained, the ducks flying from the larger bodies of water into the smaller bays and up the rivers to feed, passing out again in the evening, or, in the case of certain varieties, com- ing on to the marshes toward dusk to feed and spend the night. Occasionally the ducks are well out of reach of guns of ordinary bore and can Duck-shooting 13 only be brought down with the heaviest charges. Stormy, windy weather alters the flight, and at this time they come low, within range. In North Dakota pass shooting can even now be enjoyed as in perhaps no other country, yet here the devastation of the past few years is noticeable, and the wild fowl are no longer seen in the hordes of the past. It was near Sanborn, North Dakota, a few years ago, that the writer enjoyed a week’s shooting of this character. There were four of us in the party, and our head- quarters was a farm some forty miles from the railroad. The hunting was done by driving over the prairie to the various lakes in the vicinity, where it was a simple matter, in a few hours’ morning shooting, to reach the Dakota limit of twenty-five birds to a man. The first day’s experience I shall always remember. The prairies of North Dakota now are largely wheat-fields, the stubbles of which, toward the end of summer, are the feeding-ground of thousands of prairie- chickens, so it was natural that the large road- wagon contained, besides ourselves, two bird dogs. We had spent the greater part of the day driving, stopping once in a while to hunt for chickens, with very fair success. Toward the end of the afternoon a good-sized slough, a short distance from the road, attracted our attention; the horses were turned toward the top of a knoll, and we 14 The Water-fowl Family looked down on a sizable marsh, its edges sur- rounded largely by reeds and rushes. The sight that greeted us is beyond my powers of de- scription, and for a minute we all gazed spell- bound. About the shores we could see a little water, elsewhere none; the surface of that pond was one black mass of ducks, hundreds and thou- sands. Fortunately an old hand was along. As we started to get ready, he checked us, “ Wait until we see the pass.” Presently, successive flocks leading into the lake from the opposite side told their course. By this time we could wait no longer. The team was driven into a little hollow, and the man who “knew it all” was responsible for the promise it would stand. Then came the question of the dogs; “ Tie them to the wheels and come along.” We followed the shore, keeping just far enough back not to be observed, stopping now and then to look at that sight of ducks. Soon we were among the reeds and high grass of the farther end and could see the continuation of the slough in a little chain of ponds beyond. There were more birds than I believed could ever crowd into one place. We separated a few feet, forming a line across the most likely pass; there was no need of a blind; the grass hid us well. During this time several flocks had passed over within range, but not a shot had been fired; we were all getting ready. Duck-shooting 15 I took off my coat and put all of my possessions in the line of cartridges on it. Pretty soon a flock of shovellers swept overhead and called forth the first shots. At the reports there was the mighti- est splashing ever heard; the whole mass seemed in motion; a few seconds and they were on us. “Pick out the canvas and red-heads,” yelled the man who had been there before. “Pick out nothing,” hollered his next-door neighbor, as he fired both barrels into the air and loaded and fired again. It certainly was bedlam let loose. All I can remember about this particular moment is, that everybody was shooting as fast as he could load, and ducks were overhead all the time, con- tinuous lines of them; the air was black; shovel- lers, teal, mallard, gadwall, every other kind of a duck that grows in Dakota, but somehow very few stopped. How long this flight lasted it isn’t necessary to say, but our guns were so hot we could hardly. hold them. In a short time there were fewer birds ; small flocks, separated by breath- ing intervals, gave us an opportunity to get collected and straightened out. We attended to business better. A bunch of red-head, about the last left, appeared just overhead. The first man cut down his two, and the rest of us did up the flock. We picked up six. Straggling flocks of teal and shoveller, occasionally mallard, used up the last cartridges, and we gathered up the spoils. On 16 The Water-fowl Family a pass where the shooting is fast there is no time to mark and pick up fallen birds at once, and as a result many are lost. During all this fusillade our vehicle with its trusted pair had remained as still as any dead duck; but for some reason our approach changed their ideas, and to our utter consternation they were actually walking off with two dogs tied to the wheels, protesting. We ran, we yelled, we cursed, did everything to frighten a team that didn’t need any stimulation. They broke from a trot to a dead run. Fortunately the dogs had broken loose. My last glimpse of that outfit was a small black spot on the horizon, going like “hell bent.” The sequel to our first day’s duck-shooting in North Dakota was one night in a haystack. OVER DECOYS No form of duck-shooting is so common as that in which decoys are used. The habit our wild fowl have of flocking together makes the wooden images, even in places where gunning is constant, irresistible. In our more popular resorts, however, wild ducks are wary, perhaps warier than ever, but there are few that do not sooner or later yield to the attractions of a decoy. Often, though, little defects in the decoys are noticed and incoming birds appreciate the mis- take in time to turn off; hence the greatest care Duck-shooting 17 should be taken in the making and coloring of the stool. The best decoys are made of cork, carefully weighted and painted, sometimes provided with glass eyes, the paint on cork being less liable to shine and gleam in certain lights than that on wood, although for most practical purposes wooden decoys suffice. Many of our clubs go even farther than this and employ live decoys. Live ducks used with the wooden stool are always very efficient and allure the wildest birds. Ina few Massachusetts clubs the use of live decoys reaches its highest degree of proficiency. Here live birds are actually let loose from coops, trained to fly about the lake, and return to the stand, bring- ing with them any wild relatives they happen to encounter. At the first suspicion of anything do- ing, a well-trained duck decoy lifts his voice and quacks —the louder and more often, the better. No wild fowl in the vicinity can resist. The wild birds reply and are answered; they turn, circle, and alight among their own. In Massachusetts ducks are not only permitted to alight, but are also persuaded to huddle up and get their heads together, with the result that often not a single begrudged bird escapes the fusillade, —a shooting custom excused on the ground that ducks are few and far between. On Long Island there are a few stands of live decoys, and farther south Cc 18 The Waterfowl Family along the coast the more important clubs regu- larly have their pen of geese and ducks. The difficulty of carrying stool, in many places out of reach of boats, suggested the practicability of canvas decoys. These are blown up like foot- balls and corked, their lightness and portability being an advantage; but they are difficult to weight down, and bob around considerably in any wind, and if the sportsman is addicted to the habit of shooting birds on the water, his decoys are liable to sudden collapse. On the marshes wire rods are sometimes used to support the dead ducks, and these answer admirably as decoys, the wire being slipped underneath the skin of the neck. In cases of emergency, various means are used to attract the birds; lumps of sod or bunches of seaweed, in places not much gunned, are often effectual. In certain localities where there is sea-shooting, strings of bladders are strung out from the boats. Flat decoys are seldom satisfactory for ducks, as the flock, circling around before it lights, detects the difference. Considerable skill is required in setting out the stool. They should be placed at just the right distance from the blind; if on a marsh, in a pool of water, for the reflection then makes them con- spicuous from afar. It should always be remem- bered that ducks come in to decoys best against the wind, and the stand of stool should be so Duck-shooting 19 located as regards the blind that birds about to come need not be forced too close to the gunner, _ when they inevitably sheer off, giving a poor shot, but in such position that the decoying bird is at the easiest possible angle to shoot. Next to de- coys the blind is all-important. Having selected the most favorable situation for it, the construc- tion depends on circumstances. It should re- semble closely the surroundings and be as small _and inconspicuous as possible. In exposed places hay, grass, or seaweed are often available and useful; in winter, cakes of ice. If the location permits it, a pit can be dug and a box or barrel sunk. Numerous portable blinds have been sug- gested, of canvas or other material; but these usually fail to give much satisfaction. Of the various craft employed in duck-shooting, it is un- necessary to go into detail here. The principle of a duck boat depends upon whether it is to be used in shallow water on marshes and flats or off- shore, where deep water and sudden squalls make a strong boat necessary. The craft for rivers and marshes should be light and low, with a flat bot- tom; these boats are generally decked over. Points and the edges of marshy ponds are favorite locations for decoying ducks, and _ this method of shooting is in universal use along the bays of the coast and throughout the interior. The sounds off the shores of North Carolina 20 The Waterfowl Family have always been, and are now, among the most famous resorts for water-fowl in the eastern United States. Most of the available marshes | here are owned or leased by clubs. The Nar- rows Island Club, in Currituck Sound, happens to be the one with which I am familiar. This club-house is situated on one of the islands in the bay, a short sail from the mainland. I recall a few pleasant days spent here not long since. Our arrival was late one Saturday afternoon. Sunday is one of the three days of rest provided by law for the wild fowl of North Carolina. In the morn- ing from the lookout on the roof of the house we scanned the bay with glasses. Wherever there was water there were flocks of geese and ducks. Hardly half a mile from the house a bank of white caught the eye, and six swan floated peacefully on the quiet water. In the pond a few feet from the club were a flock of fifteen or twenty mallard; until they rose it never occurred to me that they were not decoys. With such impressions I looked forward to the first ducking day with every antici- pation. We drew first choice and took Brant Pond; breakfast was served in the dark, and when we reached the little sail-boat off the dock, a half- moon was the only light. Our one boatman and gunner stacks the decoys in the bow, and with them a crate with three live ducks. He sets up a small sail, and with the faint breeze of early Duck-shooting 21 morning we drift down the channel into the bay. In places the little craft passes close to the shore, and every now and then the clamorous quacking of ducks, startled by the boat’s dim outline, breaks on the air. The decoys in the crate quack back; presently a near-by honk tells of geese, and soon we see the dark line just rising from the surface of a pond close by, warned by the first streaks of light that it is leaving time. Now the bay broadens, and with a fresher breeze the small boat pegs along toward the island, the faint outline of which appears in front. Whistling wings, high overhead, are heard, and a flock of red-head in wavy line pass to their feeding-grounds farther south; soon another and several, keeping the same course. These sights and others make us yearn for Brant Pond; it is still a mile or more away; the boat seems just creeping. The law fixes the shooting hours as between sunrise and sunset, and the sun is not yet up. As we reach the marsh, a narrow channel into the grass lies just ahead, and through this our craft is pushed. It broadens into Brant Pond, and presently we find ourselves on the inner shore, close to the blind. A lone flock of black duck still linger well out of reach across the pond, watch proceed- ings a minute, and then leave. We carry our guns and shells to a jutting point where a clump of high grass marks the blind. A flat plank on 22 The Water-fowl Family stakes serves as a seat, and we bring a box or two from the boat for our cartridges. The decoys are being set; twenty-five or thirty wooden stool, mostly black duck and mallard with a few red-head and a string or two of broadbill, comprise our stand. They are arranged in two > separate bunches, out far enough from shore to be conspicuous, and in such position that any bird decoying will come well to our left. Lastly, the live decoys are staked out. We have three, — two drakes and a duck. The drakes are placed just outside of the wooden stool; each is tied to a little platform driven into the shallow water; the duck is fastened near shore. By separating live decoys in this way, they are generally more noisy. Sun- rise marks the hour, we are close on time, the expectations of the past few days have reached their height, and some of the countless flocks we - have seen will soon be in evidence; but ducks are uncertain always and hereabouts well educated. The hunted points and ponds are better known to every mallard than to the gunner; they know his office hours, and are particular about dropping in until late. We watch a small flock of ruddy duck diving in front, the only inhabitants of the pond. There is nothing else there, and nothing else comes. We begin to experience change of sentiment, anticipation is on the wane, not a quack or a distant honk to raise hopes; even the Duck-shooting 23 live decoys have given up getting excited. Stories of when ducks were thick and a man did business all day, any day, begin to get monotonous. It is past noon, and the only result of the morning on Brant Pond is an appetite. We are beginning _ to discuss pulling up, but finally comes a break: a sudden sharp quack from our tame duck starts the other two live decoys. A single black duck is heading for the blind, way up, but not too high for a shot. He comes straight overhead and gets two barrels, one in the neck; the next second he smashes through the grass, our first bird. Soon a flock of mallard appear in front; they answer the decoys, circle once, then set their wings and come. One lights, three more hover close, four shots, two drop; the third sags off, hard hit. The next arrivals are two pintail; the white breasts and long necks mark them at a distance; they plunge in to the stool, but spring high as we rise to shoot, and both shots go underneath. For an hour a little flight kept up, mostly mallard and black duck. Three black duck drop in across the pond and swim up to the decoys. These are the last. The shot is a sunset gun. Fifteen ducks in all. As we leave the marsh, whistling wings proclaim beginning dusk. All overhead seems ducks ; now and then quacks from the long grass mark the resting-place of mallard. The night residents of Brant Pond have come. My first day’s duck- 24 The Water-fowl Family shooting at Currituck comes to me as I write these lines. I have shot over many times the first black duck of that afternoon, and probably as often missed that pair of pintail. . IN THE WILD-RICE FIELDS In a large part of our middle western country are shallow marshy lakes, surrounded by vast stretches of high grass and wild rice. These are the natural resorts of wild fowl; here the countless flocks, wearied by the tiresome jour- ney from the north, gather with the first frosts of fall, to rest and feed and fatten, now in most of the old haunts a poor vestige of the past, but still in vast numbers. Shooting in these places is often without decoys and hence difficult, the birds sweeping over the marsh with speed un- equalled. In such resorts formerly many ducks bred; at the present time the summer residents are principally a few teal and shovellers, with an occasional mallard. The great throng of breed- ing ducks now pass farther on to more northern sloughs. Early in September comes the first shooting; the birds are mostly teal and the young of the year, just able to jump from the grass a few feet in front of a flat-bottomed skiff pushed through the water. Many are killed at this time, and hardly any bird ranks higher for the table. Along the devious creeks that in Duck-shooting 25 many places intersect the marshes, the pusher shoves his craft, with the gunner seated in the bow and ready. A swish of wings from the dry rushes, and he finds himself startled by a flock of blackbirds; a bittern flops from the grass, and with a croak protests against intrusion. Nowa bend is rounded, and close to the bank, a few feet in front, sit half a dozen teal. Instantly they jump, the first shot misses, the second, steadier, breaks a wing, and the first bird of the season drops, a cripple; the shots start half a dozen flocks, and the skiff is quickly pushed into the grass. In a moment four birds cut by, and as they sheer off from the gun, string out ina line. The first is well led, but at the report, the last closes up his wings and falls with the splash of a dead bird. A few more shots at passing birds, and you push on. Soon with startled quacking a half-dozen black ducks spring into the air, leaving one behind, hard hit with the first, dropped dead with the second shot; and so on through the early morning. Occasionally the pusher calls in an uncertain flock, but most of the successful shots are at birds jumping in close range, for under these circumstances the speed of flight is not great. This method of duck-hunting belongs only to the early fall, before the young birds have learned wisdom from experience. Later in the autumn these same resorts wel- 26 The Water-fowl Family come the northern hordes. When October ripens the wild grain, countless thousands gather in the rice fields. On the larger marshes, any point on the feeding-grounds affords a blind. Early morn- ing and evening are the moving times. With the first streaks of dawn you paddle along the reed- grown shore. The feeding-grounds are marked by the frequent clamor of resting birds. Now the loud quacking of mallard is answered by a flock overhead, and you see a faint line in the dim light and hear the swish of wings. Soon some ducks take wing, startled by the presence of the boat, and the noise and clatter they make in getting under way start hundreds. The air is filled with reverberating wings; you can hardly wait to reach the point where broken grass and sedge afford sufficient cover for the skiff. On each side is a considerable expanse of open water. It is now light enough to shoot if the birds come close, and hardly a minute before a dark line appears, looking black and large, against the yellow background of beginning day. They are closer than you thought, and are out of range almost before you break the silence of morning with the first shot. Frightened ducks fill the air, circle, and lead in all directions. A bunch of birds lighter than the others heads toward your point; alert at the first motion in the grass as you slowly raise the gun, they flare up into the air, all Duck-shooting 27 in a huddle, and a well-placed shot stops two, — all, for the last one takes the second barrel as he sheers off wounded. They are sprigtail, the wildest of the aggregation. There is no time to waste; flock after flock move by, and for a time you hardly dare push out for fallen birds. Over- head, in front, and whistling wings behind cause you to turn and try a hopeless shot as a flock swings out of range. Mallard, black duck, widgeon, all are there; occasionally a few red- head, and some ducks of minor importance, but the bag is chiefly mallard. With sunrise the birds are on the wing and well scattered. As they pass by neighboring points of marsh, boom- ing guns tell the same story; there is no safe place. The shots are few, and you make the most of them. A single mallard, high up, but straight overhead, is the last. The gun leads him a good four feet, and you hear the shot strike, a second before he doubles up and crashes through the dry grass behind, a fall that makes up for many a miss. Shooting under these circumstances is always difficult, for the birds are at top speed and all sorts of angles; yet the satisfaction of a clean shot is doubly great. SHOOTING FROM A BUSH BLIND In some of the hunting resorts of the South ducks are decoyed from bush blinds staked out 28 The Waterfowl Family in the shallow water. These in many instances are built on the feeding-grounds in the summer and early fall, so as to allow the birds to become accustomed to them. A bush blind consists of a number of tree-tops driven into the mud, forming a screen of sufficient height to conceal well the skiff which is pushed in at the openend. A large number of decoys are then placed in front. Sev- eral years ago two of us spent a few days ducking on the James River, near Westover. Our host had placed at our disposal everything, from his house to decoys. We were in charge of a darky who knew all the wiles of Virginia ducks; his name was Wat Green, and no man, black or white, could equal Wat in the duck business. It was early Christmas morning when we were called to leave the comforts of bed for the cold outside. A cup of coffee and a roll served asa starter. Ilook back on that cup of coffee as the one thing that carried me through one of the most uncomfortably cold days I ever faced. Wat opened the front door and latched it without a creak; we passed out into the cold morning. It was blowing a gale and snowing, the first snow of the season; the day before had been mild as summer; the contrast wasn't warming. It was only a few steps to the landing where there was a large boat well filled with decoys, and a skiff which we towed along. Wat rowed, and we envied him. The cold that swept Duck-shooting 29 the river with every blast of wind went to the bones. ‘“ We'll see canvas to-day shuah,” but even the thought of canvas-back didn’t warm up much. It seemed a long while before we reached the bay on the other side; this was covered with sheet ice. By some misfortune a single duck about now passed within shot of the boat, and by astill greater misfortune he was winged; for in attempting to finish him, between the duck and my companion and Wat, I was landed feet first in about four feet of water —a trifle high for boots. I can feel myself shiver as I recall it. There was no going back; the only thing to do was to go ashore and build a fire. Meanwhile Wat set the decoys in front of a bush blind near shore. Before he had finished, a flock of broadbill dropped in; this was the signal for getting started, and we soon found ourselves in the blind, bobbing around in a leaky skiff, left to the mercy of a northeast wind anda snow-storm. Wat went back to the fire and incidentally put out two or three decoys offshore. It was a day for ducks if not for anything else. We were scarcely fixed when over the wooded point in front a black line appeared; ina few seconds it turned into a flock of broadbill, and circling around the cove headed for the stool. There were twenty or more; they all came in and all went out, though somebody fired both barrels. Another flock came into sight from the same direction and presently, were hovering 30 The Water-fowl Family over the decoys. We both fired, and not a bird stopped. How many times this happened I do not know. My one recollection of this day was a continual flight of ducks. It was simply impos- sible to shoot. Choppy water and a leaky boat kept one of us busy continually. We took turns holding the skiff still while the other man fired. We tried holding on to the stake with one hand and shooting with the other. It was hopeless; the sleet and snow were blinding as we faced the wind. Wet cartridges stuck and the guns would hardly open and shut; but ducks there were, a | steady stream, small strings leading over the point, coming with the wind, swooping by the decoys and dropping among the stool. The birds were mostly broadbill, occasionally black duck. From out a flock of mallard a single green-head circled in, and hovered, close in front, the first we had seen. “ That mallard’s mine,” and gathering together the little strength left, I let him have both barrels to find I’d lied, —he didn’t even leave a feather. As I remember, the next bird was a black duck. He didn’t come in, but just manceuvred around about a gunshot and a half off. By one of the most unholy shots I ever saw, my cold partner in the other end of the skiff let him down; he fell witha broken wing. Wat finished him. There was no cessation in the shooting; we had probably in our crippled condition shot away fifty shells apiece, Duck-shooting 31 and I believe could easily have tripled the number under ordinary circumstances. But soon camean incident which marked a bitter day with a bright line, and I see that flock of ducks as I write. There were six, and, as out of the storm they came, straight for the blind, the brick-colored head of the leader and his white back marked their na- tionality. They were canvas-back, and what’s more, our first. The flock turned out of range of the stool, but the old drake didn’t, he just plunged ahead and came right over us about forty feet up. I remember gripping the stake in front with one hand and just shooting straight up in the air; a mighty big splash told some- thing had happened. I turned around and saw him, a little way off and right side up, but shot through the head. This was the finish; we could stick it out no longer. Wat picked up the stool; he had killed six ducks from the shore. The total bag was eight; our clothes were stiff with ice. Then comes the remembrance of lying on the floor in front of the blazing fire of pine knots in William Knox’s house. A knock on the door, it was Wat. “ Have some hot whiskey, sah?” I often think, in looking back on some ducking days, that much of the real fascination lies in the comfort and warmth that sooner or later relieve the misery of wet and cold. 32 The Water-fowl Family BATTERY SHOOTING Battery shooting is practised more or less all along the coast and occasionally inland. The battery, when well built and equipped, is the deadliest of all the different methods of decoy shooting. In fact, the destruction of ducks by this method has been legislated against in many of the resorts for wild fowl, in others limited to a certain number of days, and some states permit only residents this privilege; but the same provi- dent states allow any one to become a native for five dollars — this is truein North Carolina. The battery is a coffin-like box so shaped that it con- ceals one or two men when lying at full length; it is provided with head and tail pieces of canvas to break the force of the waves, and weighted down so the sides are just above the level of the water. From this description it can readily be seen that moderately calm weather is essential for successful shooting. ‘Painted lead color and carefully concealed by a hundred or more decoys, few ducks, however wild, will distinguish the counterfeit if their line of flight is near by. A good-sized boat known as the tender is required to carry a battery and the necessary stool. This lies off at a sufficient distance from the gunner to pick up his birds, and otherwise attend to him should emergency arise. Duck-shooting 33 Long Island has always been a resort for battery shooting, more especially toward the east- ern end of Great South Bay. It was here, several years ago, a party of us enjoyed a good day’s shooting. We reached Bellport late in the after- noon, and went aboard a small sloop. There was a fair wind, and presently we found ourselves drifting at a rapid rate toward the outer beach. The change from city life to Great South Bay was a pleasing one, and as the chill of an October even- ing began to be marked on the water by the last glittering of sunset, we drew on our coats and jerseys. The bay was hardly ruffled by the faint breeze, yet the way oyster stakes disappeared be- hind indicated that a tide was running with us. As the dark line of ocean beach looms up, on all sides jutting points of sedge and grass, with out- lying marshy islands, bring up thoughts of ducks. The keel grates and we anchor. A small boat is ready, and an old man pushes us ashore. It is only a step to the little weather-beaten shanty almost hidden among the dunes, in which a single room contains around its walls a tier of bunks. In one end a fireplace, blazing with dry driftwood, lights everything about. A big bowl on the table steams with oyster broth, and Uncle Dan can’t ladle it out fast enough. Then some clam fritters and one cup of coffee all around. I think, with all the excitement and expectation D 34 The Water-fowl Family for the morning, there wasn’t one of us who wouldn’t have had that evening go on forever; but at nine o’clock Uncle Dan quit telling stories, and reached up on a shelf for an alarm clock, which he wound and set at three. We pushed our bench back and unlatched the door. It was a bright moonlight night, and the sound of pounding surf attracted us; we stood for a few minutes on the beach, looking out on the white streaks of ocean, when Uncle Dan’s voice broke the spell, “ Get to bed, boys.” To turn in under these circumstances was an insult to the night, but Dan Petty was boss down Bellport way, and we turned in; no one of us slept, not a wink. We counted seconds, prayed for the alarm to ring, and meanwhile listened to the noises of the night. There was the sublime roar of the sea and Uncle Dan; when they came together, Uncle Dan drowned out the sea. He snored fast and slow, then tunes, and just honked on until three AM. The relief of that alarm! Before it finished ringing, we were all moving around. “Don't wake up, boys; you’ve got one hour’s more sleep.” The longest hour yet, and then a breakfast of clam fritters and pancakes. It is a good while still before daylight when we start, a mist hangs over all around, and just a light breeze from the east predicts a good battery day. The sail is being hauled and the anchor weighed; a minute Duck-shooting 35 more and the sloop disappears, leaving me with Uncle Dan. “We'll take the single box and go to Hospital.” Hospital Point lay to the east a mile, and we started for it in a good-sized punty, towing a single battery behind. It was slow going, but in time we were there. The only scenery so far was mist. We anchored the battery about two hundred yards off the point, on a shallow bar. It is ‘weighted down close to the level of the water by heavy iron decoys; then we set the stool, a few behind, but the large body in front; and when the last decoy is thrown out, standing a gunshot off, it is hardly possible to realize we aren’t in front of a big raft of ducks. “Get in; you won't wait - long; [ll pick up the birds from the point beyond ; keep in the box and keep down,” and old Dan pushed himself out of sight. Left alone by my tender, I stretched out, and soon came to the con- clusion there are few things harder than a hard- wood floor, not a cushion or pillow or anything else, and finally I wrapped my coat around a decoy; this serves as a prop and helps a bit. It is still foggy, but a light breeze is rolling up the banks of mist, and except for this, it is light enough to shoot. Now the first birds of the morning come in sight, a great mass far out over the bay. Flying in undulating line, they appear high over the water, and the next minute are out of sight 36 The Water-fowl Family in a fog bank. A number of little strings follow. This keeps up a few minutes, when a splash in front causes me to turn —a single old squaw sits among the stool, embarrassed and confused; I have no use for old squaws, and finally it paddles out, leaving with a grunt of disgust. Broadbill are leading now just outside, and soon a flock of four swerve off and head for the decoys. In the light of sunrise they look black and big, — right at the edge of the stool, on wings set, they slope in, an easy mark; and as the smoke clears only two depart. The reports resounding over the bay start a multitude of ducks; rising high, they break up into countless numbers of little bunches, always a promising sign. Presently eight come in and leave three — two as the flock swings in line, the third before they recover. A pair and then four more; broadbill seem every- where, and come in thick and fast, so far all from the right direction, straight in front. A booming far to the east, four guns often at once, marks the position of the double battery, and a cloud of ducks in sight over the horizon in the same direc- tion indicates the others are busy. The pleasant feature of my position is that the water is so shallow that I can pick up my own birds, and soon the limited quarters of the box are filled. With the exception of a single red-head, they are all broadbill. A large flock in front and I hurry Duck-shooting a7 back; in a minute they are all over me; as I sit up ducks rise on all sides, and in the confusion depart without a shot. A pair of black duck come by the point toward the stool, a rare chance, and I move too soon; the birds were farther off than they seemed; but one, hard hit, turns off to the farther point, and I trust him to Dan. The steady flight has now decreased; yet every little while ducks hail the stool in twos and threes, and there is plenty doing. A long, black line far out on the water marks a bed of birds, and toward this the smaller bodies lead; before noon they are all assembled and the morning shooting ceases. I see Dan Petty shoving along the marsh. He has half a dozen birds on the deck of the punty, and the grand total is two dozen broad- bill, a red-head, and a black duck. Half an hour later we all get together aboard the sloop for lunch. This particular day’s shooting was one of my pleasantest experiences in the battery. The number of birds killed was small, but they came in well, and few shots were missed. In battery shooting, birds coming in from behind and on the right are very liable to escape a right-handed gunner, and if possible they should be decoyed from in front and to the left. Great South Bay is still famous for battery shooting; and, though cruelly shot, big bags are now made, but the Long Island sports- 38 The Water-fowl Family man has long since been obliged to get along without the services of Dan Petty. BRANT-SHOOTING Brant are exclusively a coast bird, and never occur inland; they frequent the larger bays and sounds along the coast, but have favorite stopping- places on their flight to and fro from the breed- ing-grounds in the remotest corners of the north. Their spring flight differs somewhat from the fall— wintering in the brackish sounds of Vir- ginia and North Carolina, when the first warm winds of March warn them of approaching spring, the immense hordes assembled here become rest- less, small bands separate, and striking out to sea begin their weary flight. From Virginia many pass direct to Cape Cod; some collect for a short time in the bays of New Jersey and Long Island. Early in March the few brant that have win- tered on Cape Cod begin to be augmented by relays from the south; these come thick and fast, so that by the middle of the month Chatham Bay sees them in thousands; their arrival has been prepared for; all of the farther bars have been fortified. In every favorite spot along their course sink boxes have been placed. Wherever a sand bar is exposed at high water it conceals a box. These are large enough to hold three men, and are supposed to be water-tight, but generally Duck-shooting 39 require frequent bailing. Every care is taken of the sink box; at low tide wheelbarrows of sand and gravel are dumped around its edges to fill in the spaces washed away; sacks of sand are often stacked around it to serve as a solid foundation; gradually in this way a bar is formed which slopes up to the level of the box. This is surrounded by a large number of stool, a hun- dred or more, to which are added a few live birds, tied out in conspicuous places and generally con- nected by a string with the blind, so if circum- stances require they can be forced to perform. At Cape Cod now large numbers of stool are very important, and live birds are absolutely essential. 3 As to the brant, constant persecution has made them, of all birds, wary, as wise perhaps as geese. They avoid the bars and blinds in spite of all in- ducements, and keeping together in vast throngs lay their course over open water. Many feed on the flats, dipping their necks down in the shallow water, but never diving; and hence their feeding depth is marked by their length. With the rising tide the birds are drifted from the flats and gradu- ally float toward the shore, all in one vast aggre- gation. This is a critical time. The three men in the sink box lie low. Slowly and surely ap- proach the mass of birds; the water is black with them. Constant discordant notes from the assem- 40 The Water-fowl Family bly, honks of satisfaction, honks of suspicion, yet not a bird leaves. The closer they get to the sand bar where a sizable flock rests uncon- cerned, and a few live decoys every now and then flap their wings, the more suspicious they become. A few separate from the main throng and swim toward the decoys. With the utmost manceuvring and good luck, this flock of six is brought within range. The three gunners who have been twisted up in bow-knots for an hour get untied and let go. Brant have the habit, possessed by some other birds, of getting close together when they are startled, and the first two shots, if well placed, have probably attended to half the flock, and it is fair to presume the other half don’t stand much chance with two whole guns left. Wuth the reports there is such a splashing and commotion that Chatham Bay hasn’t seen since the last high tide, and several acres of brant start out for safer quarters. This is the end for the present tide, and nowadays considerably more than the average end. On some few occasions, however, conditions favor the sportsman. Wind and heavy weather inter- fere with the regular brant programme. The birds, at the first indication of rising tide, become uneasy and restless; small numbers separate and little strings of four to ten lead up the bay. This is a day of days—they come to the blind, the Duck-shooting Al wavy line circles in over the decoys, hovers, and lights. Very few of the smaller flocks depart, three out of four, three straight, three out of five — it doesn’t take long to run up a score. For a short time the flight is thick and fast, the birds pile in, but with high water comes a let-up. There are instances of sixty birds being killed in this way from a single box at one tide; but the average at the branting shanties, during the season now, is probably nearer nothing than six. BRANT-SHOOTING IN VIRGINIA Along the Virginia coast, reaching south to South Carolina, are a series of shallow bays, sepa- rated from the ocean by a narrow strip of land, their shores lined with marshes and marshy islands. Here is the winter home of the brant. The first flocks arrive early in November, and by December the large body has accumulated on the first resting-place since leaving the Arctic shores. At first the birds keep pretty much to the open channel and deeper portions of the bay; remain- ing in huge masses, they move to and fro from the feeding-grounds as the tide affords oppor- tunity. These flats are covered in many places by patches of thin eel-grass, and this is their food. As the brant does not dive, it is evident low water is essential for its feeding. Long before the arrival, their coming has been anticipated. 42 The Waterfowl Family About all the favorite bars and flats brush blinds have been built. These are composed of green cedar tops staked out early in the fall, forming a sufficient cover for a good-sized flat-bottom boat. At high water many of the blinds are entirely submerged, while when the tide is out they are exposed for a distance of four or five feet. With early winter come the first opportunities for gun- ning. For weeks the birds have been watched for the right chance, and now it is at hand. The weather for the past few days has been threaten- ing, stormy, and rough. Finally a brisk breeze from the east promises the first good day. A flat- bottomed sloop lies anchored off one of the flats. Tied to her stern are two small dinks, stacked high with stool. For a week brant have been leading up the bay to this particular shoal, spend- ing the time of low water on the bars, then moving out in vast rafts to the channel. Persist- ing wind, however, has broken up the masses of birds, and indications for the morning could hardly be improved. In the evening a party of gunners gather around the little stove, which barely warms the cabin. It is cold, and outside the wind howls, while every now and then comes a wild sound, a sound that stirs the heart of him who has heard it before. At times a perfect din, it seems close to the boat, but in reality is a mile or more away. Brant are gathered on the bar. Duck-shooting 43 There is little sleeping; every man waits for the morning call. With the first light the disturbers of the night are seen, a long black line of bedded birds, quietly drifting bayward with the falling tide. Now the top of a blind, barely showing over the water, seems in their midst. It will be two hours yet before the blinds will be sufficiently exposed to hide the dinks, and there is plenty of time for breakfast. The brush tops grow bigger slowly, but finally the two small boats leave the sloop. They are broad and low, with bows decked over. Each carries about forty stool. A short pull over the flats, and every now and then a flock of small ducks leave the water, and an occasional belated black duck quacks a protest as he wings his way from the marsh. A far-off mass of broad- bill rises high in the air, marks the horizon with a wavy line, then settles down with a roar of wings that is heard two miles away. No brant are in sight. The blind in front is reached first, and the stool are set. The task isacold one. There is little mercy in the weather. But finally they are all strung out in a line to the left, so that birds stooling will come in against the wind in the best position. The dink is shoved into the blind. It fits exactly. The tops barely cover the deck. A crosspiece of brush hides the stern. The tide is still high, and it will be two hours yet before the bar is near the surface. The wind comes fresher, AA The Waterfowl Family with now and then a flurry of snow, which is somewhat uncomfortable but welcome. No better day was ever made for brant. There is perhaps half an hour of shivering expectation, but a cer- tainty about it which is more or less warming. Finally a black line appears far out in the bay. It grows bigger, and there is no mistaking it. Now the voxzk-r-r-r-ronk is heard. The gunner in the stern calls back, and the birds lead toward the decoys with excited cries. The wind keeps them close to the water, and as they rise it beats them back. There must be fifty in the bunch, and they are near the stool. Now on set wings they sail almost within range, but turn away just as the shot seems sure. They circle back of the blind; again set their wings and head for the stool; but, suspicious, sheer off and lead toward the farther shore. A second bunch appears from the same direction, taking the same course as the first. They circle about the decoys, and finally, about to turn, an impatient shot rings out, and a bird sags away from the flock, hard hit, to fall dead a hundred yards away. Soon line after line comes into sight from out over the bay, almost in military array. The blind now conceals the boat well, and the birds do not show quite the same hesitation about coming in. Presently twenty or more brant gracefully circle the decoys, and then sail up to within twenty yards of the guns. They Duck-shooting 45 look black and big. Startled they rise together, their white breasts showing as they turn. Four quick shots; six fall. It is necessary to retrieve them at once if at all, and the boat pushes out. It takes fifteen minutes to round up the last, and half a dozen chances have been lost; but the air is still full of birds, and a flock comes in as soon as the cover is reached. A little to the right, and a hard shot, but one splashes and a second leaves the others. Four separate from a bunch and hover. All are killed. The boat is pushed out and back again, and only the birds dead close to the blind are picked up. Brant seem everywhere: leading in over the decoys, and at the shots turn- ing back toward the bay, heading up in the direc- tion of the bar, showing first black, then white, as the backs or breasts come into view; keeping up all the time an incessant noise. Shooting has been fast, and the dink has pushed out a dozen times or more for dead birds. A huge mass heave in sight — hundreds; there is just time to ambush the boat. On they come, straight for - the stool; the air is black with them, overhead and on all sides. Both guns are emptied, and it rains brant. Nine dead, and several wounded mark the wake. The flight for a time is con- tinual. The minutes out of the blind seem ages, but a falling tide saves further destruction, and the strings of birds no longer hail. They have 46 The Water-fowl Family bedded far out in the bay, where they will rest in peace until the next combination of an east wind with an ebb tide. Now low water leaves some of the stool almost dry on the bar; it is possible to wade out and pick them up. As the dink is headed for home, the bow is piled high with brant, some forty odd. DUCK-SHOOTING AT LONG POINT Among the most famous places for wild ducks at the present time are the marshes on the north shore of Lake Erie, owned by the Long Point Company. Long Point consists of a peninsula some twenty miles in length and from four to six miles wide, making a shallow bay along the lake. This narrow strip is almost a continuous marsh, broken up everywhere by ponds, its edges bor- dered in places with woods. Through the summer the marsh is the breeding-ground of many black duck and teal. Mallards and shovellers nest there more sparingly. It is a satisfactory fact that since spring shooting has been abolished the number of ducks here has increased surprisingly through the summer. Early in the fall, blue-winged teal and black duck are most in evidence; but there are also wood-duck in some quantity, although here, as elsewhere, the wood-duck has disappeared markedly in the past few years. With the first cold days of October, the summer residents begin Duck-shooting 47 to be augmented by the relays from the north, and by the last of the month the shooting is in its prime. A few hours from Buffalo lands the fortu- nate member of this club on a dock in a small Canadian town, where a steamer is in readiness to transport him to the club on the other side. It is perhaps eight miles across, and almost from the moment of leaving the sights on all sides make him yearn for what is to come. Flocks of red- head and canvas-back rise from the water; a raft of broadbill leave their resting-place in the bay, to pass out of sight in undulating line. Every now and then widgeon are in evidence, soaring high as they take flight. Ducks on all sides make way for the craft, and the distant booming of guns away off on the marsh tells what is going on be- yond. The little mark on the low line of land, which at first appeared a mere dot in the distance, has taken on proportions, and after a sail of an hour and a half a collection of low buildings ap- pears in front of the steamer. In a few minutes more she ties to the dock, and bags, baggage, and sportsmen are unloaded. It is too late in the after- noon to shoot, but there is much in the way of preparation. A warden shows the individual his cottage, and ushers him into a room warmed by a blazing fire. Everything is in readiness. Before the trunk comes a “punter” is on hand to help in straightening things out. He unpacks the guns 48 The Waterfowl Family and, after an extra greasing, puts them in the rack, unlocks the cartridge room, and fills the “kit” with some three hundred shells. The lucky sportsman who is to dwell in this spot for two weeks gets out of travelling clothes and proceeds to ask all manner of questions, which only serve to make him more restless and uneasy than he was before. He walks out. A wooden walk, built high on spiles, leads to the administration building. On the marsh side of this platform are some dozen or more cottages, all of them built out of the reach of high water. In front of each is a boat-house, with its duck-house on the side. One or two of these well filled bear evidence of good shooting. About the dock some hell-divers dip up and down. A gunshot off in the creek, a flock of broadbill feed undisturbed. The very atmosphere suggests ducks. A winding stair leads to a lookout on the top of the administration house. From here a view is had of portions of the neighboring marsh. A large body of water in front is the Island Pond. Even to the naked eye flocks of duck are apparent on the water. With glasses it seems to be all dotted over, though most of the ducks turn out to be mud-hens. Against the farther edge is a line of birds easily made out; their light backs mark them as canvas-back, and in the light of sunset they shine. With the last rays of day the new arrival to this duck paradise looks out on the Duck-shooting 49 marshes and ponds, and keeps looking. There is nothing now until dinner. At seven the bell rings, and he finds himself face to face with a venison steak and a roasted black duck. A white pintail and a white muskrat are among the inter- esting adornments on the wall of the dining room. Two pair of deer antlers, locked as they fell, hang in the hall. Records of duck-shooting in muzzle- loader times are on file, and, strange to say, many of the recent ones are better. With the morning comes a clear, cold day and a northwest wind. Club rules prohibit the dis- turbing of the marsh before 9 a.m., so there is plenty of time. Occasional flocks of black duck and teal rise up from the ponds in sight of the house, and settle down again just beyond. The punter is getting ready. He picks out some thirty or more decoys, mostly black duck and mallard, throws an armful of dry grass in the boat, brings the guns and ammunition, and lastly the lunch pail. The craft is a light round-bottomed boat; and after the gunner has made himself comfortable in the bow, with a push it glides off. Down the creek a half mile, and the punt is turned through a little cut into the marsh. A number of mud- hens have been disturbed, and occasionally black duck have jumped from the sedge in range, but no shot is allowed en route. The narrow ditch broadens into a pond, and hundreds of ducks rise E 50 The Water-fowl Family as the boat appears. Stakes on the other side mark the course, and through a continuation of ditches and creeks the punter shoves. Ducks are everywhere, — jumping before the boat, circling about the marsh, starting up other flocks, then dropping down, loath to leave their resting-places. Now the creek leads into a larger pond, its surface marked with patches of marsh grass and wild rice. A roar of wings, and a perfect multitude of ducks take flight, joined, as they leave the water, by smaller flocks. This is Pearson’s Pond. At its farther edge a small strip of sedge is surrounded by quite an area of open water, which, with a © northwest wind, makes a lee. Here the punter sets his decoys, then shoves back into the grass. There is no need of a blind. A few quill reeds cut and stuck in front of the bow make a complete cover. Before everything is ready comes the first shot. Four black duck, high up, answer the call, and dropping into range circle in against the wind with wings set, then jump high in the air as the mistake is realized. One drops, the next barrel misses. The morning stillness has been broken. At the report thousands of ducks rise from the ponds and marshes. A gun sounds off to the east, and others toward the club, but there is suffi- cient to attend to on Pearson’s Pond. A flock of six, in which a green head marks a mallard, are hovering over the stool. The mallard anda black RED-HEADS AND CANVAS-BACK Duck-shooting 51 duck part company with the rest, and before the gun is loaded is a chance at a single duck. A dozen more are almost in range. Two cut in, and one stays. The flight for a few minutes is steady ; then the birds seem to have risen higher, and do not decoy as well. Guns on all sides in the marsh keep them moving. A flock of something differ- ent now flashes by, and a dozen hooded mergansers dart over the decoys. A pair of green-winged teal light; and as they stop, a double folds them up. Every few minutes black duck, in twos and threes, sometimes a small flock, call forth shots. This shooting lasts until noon, and then comes a brief respite. There is an opportunity to look about. Some hundred yards off are the dead birds, drifted against the edge of the marsh. There are forty odd, and a number of cripples have crawled off; not once has the boat been pushed out. Lunch seems in order, but it is cut short by another little flight. Three or four more teal are bagged. A shadow over the decoys, and an eagle swoops, de- ceived by the wooden ducks. A scream tells his fright, and he lifts himself up out of reach. With afternoon comes more shooting, black duck mostly, and some teal. One of the last chances isa single black duck high up, and going with the wind; but it smashes through the quills at the shot. Sunset is near at hand, and Pearson’s Pond is about an hour from home. The punter takes up. Between 52 The Water-fowl Family stool and ducks, quarters in the punt are crowded. The gunner realizes, in addition to the delights of that day, a lame shoulder and an appetite. Sixty- seven birds, among them twenty-six brace of black duck, are hung in the duck-house. In the past season red-head have figured largely in the bags made at Long Point, but the marsh ducks generally predominate, and black ducks head the list. In one of the larger ponds canvas- back are occasional visitors. CANVAS-BACK SHOOTING IN ONTARIO In the past few years, in certain parts of the Great Lake region, canvas-back have appeared in considerable numbers, and it is an interesting fact that a marked increase of these ducks was noted in some localities at a time coincident with their disappearance from the Chesapeake. In some of the shallow bays of Lake Erie wild celery is found, and it is here the birds are most abundant. The first flocks of canvas-back appear early in October, and keep pretty much to the open water, spending most of their time in resting and feed- ing, occasionally moving in large bodies. By the end of the month all the flocks have congregated, and the canvas-back season is at its height. Bat- tery shooting is not legal here, and the gunning is done almost entirely from skags. A skag is a low duck-boat, strongly built, decked over in such Duck-shooting 56 a way that it is well fitted for the rough water and sudden squalls that are common in these re- gions. Painted water color, the craft is incon- spicuous, and a slight ripple makes it still more so. Itis used in two ways, either anchored within range of the decoys or some two hundred yards off, to be drifted on to the stool when opportunity offers. Early in the season the ducks do not ob- ject to the presence of the skag in the decoys, and this is generally the first method of shooting. But canvas-back quickly become wild and soon shy the boat, even when well surrounded with stool. Drifting on to the birds, when done as it always is by one man, requires no little skill. The skag is anchored some distance to the wind- ward of the decoys, and a buoy fastened to the anchor line. The gunner, provided with a short paddle, lies full-length in the boat. The stools are so set that there is a small area of open water in their midst, and a hundred or more are thrown out. Both canvas-back and red-head have the habit of swimming together after stooling, and it is the theory of gunners, that if open water is left in the centre of the mass of decoys the ducks will swim into this instead of away from the stool. The birds of necessity are allowed to light; then the gunner without raising himself detaches the buoy, tips the skag gently by leaning to one side, and thus makes a more effectual cover. The 54 The Water-fowl Family craft is now gently paddled by one hand within range. A little breeze facilitates greatly the shoot- ing, as it conceals more efficiently the boat, and forces the birds to rise toward the gun. The gunner is tended by a large boat, which lies off to the lee, ready to render quick assistance in case of emergency, and to help in picking up dead birds. This shooting is local, and used principally by market gunners; but in a few instances where sportsmen have attempted it, they have been sur- prisingly successful. In the bay on Lake Erie, where skagging first came under the writer’s observation, there were two market gunners who were specially skilful, and the account given below ~ is almost word for word the one given him by a gunner who has the reputation of being the best shot on the north shore. The total day’s bag of one hundred and twenty-four canvas-back duck was made beyond the slightest doubt. “It was late last October. I had been out in a skag for a -week or more, with poor luck. Birds were plenty, but there had been no wind, and the flocks were not broken up. Finally, a two days’ easterly blow set in, and we tried them from the west end of the bay, about a mile offshore. Birds had been leading to the west the day before. It was about sunrise when all the stool were set. I took the skag and anchored off to the windward of the Duck-shooting 55 decoys a couple of hundred yards. My brother tended the sloop. There was some little sea, and a breeze from the west. We put up a big bed of canvas-back near the spot, but it was an hour or so before any came in. Then a steady flight kept up all day, in small flocks of from six to ten. A flock of six was the first to come into the stool. They dropped in, and didn’t seem to want to rise. I worked up within forty feet of the bunch, killed three on the water and the rest in straight shots, with a pump gun. I picked them up and got a shot at two before I went to my anchor, dropping one. The birds came in like this all the morning, and I didn’t go down on the decoys once and get less than three. Most of them gave me a shot on the water. The best scoop I made was on a flock of fifteen: only one got off; eight on the water, three as they rose, three more circled and came back after I reloaded. It was blowing harder all the time, and decoys began to drift. About four o'clock the sloop came, and we ‘took up.’ “There were fifty birds on board and seventy odd in the skag, all canvas-back. I didn’t shoot broadbill, and there were no red-head flying. That was the best day last fall, and the best score I ever made.” CHAPTER II DUCK-SHOOTING (CONTINUED) RIVER SHOOTING In many parts of the United States it 1s pos- sible to get good duck-shooting on the rivers. This is the case in various parts of the West, and especially the South, where sluggish streams wind through brush and brake. For this manner of ducking, a low flat-bottomed boat is essential, and should be made as inconspicuous as possible by means of sedge and grass piled in the bow. If managed by a single gunner, he must be an ex- pert sculler. Usually one man paddles another, keeping the craft close to the shore, noiselessly rounding a bend within easy range of the adjacent bank. With loud quacking, the startled birds spring into the air from a wooded pool, and a flock of mallard offers an easy mark. An old green-head falls at the first shot, and his compan- ions, soaring high, wend their way down-stream. Every little while, from the sloughs alongshore, where grass and thick weeds afford cover and a feeding-place, ducks jump within range. They are mostly mallard, though wood-duck and teal are 56 Duck-shooting 57 not wanting. Birds, under these circumstances, are frequently surprised by rounding quick turns in the river; the shooting generally is easy. Some- times the size of the stream is such that the gun- ner can walk through the cover lining the sides and shoot as the ducks rise. In the spring of the year vast tracts of woodland along the larger rivers of the West are flooded, and immense num- bers of mallard, and to a less extent the other varieties of ducks, frequent the inundated woods. Under these circumstances a few decoys help out the shooting. In northern Mexico, last year, I enjoyed a novel day’s duck-shooting. We started on horse- back, in the early morning, from Laguna, with a Mexican boy to care for the horses. Here the country is one vast arid plain, a continuation of the desert plateau of Arizona and New Mexico. For nine months of the year rain is unknown, and in the spring the only water is found in the shallow mesa lakes, or, rarely, in arroyos, which are river beds cut deep in the soil by the heavy rains of the summer, and at this time well filled with water. At the cessation of the rainy season these rivers quickly run dry, leaving a deep channel. In the few places where water remains in these arroyos, it is resorted to by hundreds of ducks. The river near Laguna, in the spring of the year, is a mere ditch, in places almost dry, 58 The Water-fowl Family yet ducks were in plenty. Occasionally a stagnant pool broadened out the banks; these were per- haps twenty feet high, so steep and narrow it was possible to walk a few feet from the edge without even seeing the water below. We rode along the plain, yellow with dry, wavy grass, dotted as far as the eye could reach with cattle, for the cattle, like all other living things, are concentrated near water. It was a still, bright day, characteristic of a desert country. For a short distance we trav- elled away from the stream, expecting to follow it a little farther from the ranch. Almost before we had realized it was near, a flock of gadwall rose up, as it were, out of the earth. Quickly handing over the horses to the Mexican, we crept along the bank; a quack just ahead and beneath us, and in another minute we found him, an old green- head, in a puddle all by himself, right under our feet. He sprang into the air, and startled as he did so a flock of gadwall. They offered a perfect shot; two dropped, and instantly ducks rose out of the ground in scores; teal, gadwall, shovellers, a few sprigs, and mallard. For a short time the shooting was fast, birds passing overhead back and forth, following the course of the arroyo, suddenly dropping down out of sight far ahead. Between us we picked up perhaps a dozen, gad- wall and teal mostly, occasionally a sprigtail and a widgeon; then we mounted and rode on, strik- Duck-shooting 59 ing the arroyo half a mile beyond. In a short time our capacity for ducks was exhausted; we had almost more than we could carry on horse- back, and we turned toward home. It was very interesting to follow along this weird place, and see how close we could get to unsuspecting birds. In one instance I watched a flock of twenty or thirty gadwall and teal nearly half an hour, hardly more than thirty feet from the spot where I lay in the grass, peering over the bank. They preened themselves, unsuspecting, and dabbled in the shal- low water, occasionally uttering contented notes, but, at the slightest motion, were alert and ready to spring. In another instance I noticed a pair of ruddy ducks in a small pool scarcely a foot in depth. It seemed to be a good chance to force a diver to his wings, and I ran down the steep bank almost on to them. They just settled out of sight in the water, and never appeared. How they ever dived out of that puddle is beyond my understanding, and my esteem for a ruddy duck’s sleight of diving was greater than ever. It was early afternoon when we wended our way back to the ranch, where a pitcher of coffee and a plate of tortillas went but a little way toward appeasing a Mexican appetite. 60 The Water-fowl Family ICE-HOLE SHOOTING In various parts of our country, with the first approach of winter, many wild fowl are loath to leave, and remain until the last open water freezes. Throughout the West the larger lakes and rivers afford shooting from ice-holes, — along the coasts, the bays, and harbors. There is a degree of dis- comfort, not to say actual danger, about this shooting that does not commend itself to the sportsmen as highly as other methods. Then too, birds, if long limited to these small areas of open water, grow thin and poor; but a duck is a duck, and probably this fact has not deterred many gunners from taking advantage of any helplessness. While all varieties of ducks fre- quent open water under these circumstances, the species most commonly associated with freezing weather are the golden-eye; they thrive and keep in good condition to the last. On an occa- sion I saw a single golden-eye in a small ice- hole, under one of the bridges near New Haven; the bird flew as we drove over, but at once returned, a fact that goes to show the tenacity of birds for these places when forced by circum- stances. My own experience in ice shooting has been limited. In the severe winter of four years ago the harbors all along Long Island Sound were frozen Duck-shooting 61 over and where the current was strong, in many instances, areas of open water existed. One of these holes, several acres in size, was frequented by a large number of broadbill, and here on several occasions I had excellent shooting. It is always important, in this method of gunning, not to fire into the birds when all are bedded together on the water. The large flocks should be allowed to leave, when they quickly return in small bunches, and if care is used in resting the birds, the shoot- ing will continue good. When offshore, the holes must be approached with care; and for this purpose white boats are used. These should be decked over and light. Often a sled is useful in carrying them over the ice. The blind is readily made of ice and snow, and a few decoys suffice. There is always a chance of accident from break- ing through treacherous ice, and the surroundings are not the most desirable for calamities of this sort. SEA-DUCK SHOOTING Sea-duck shooting is hardly to be compared for sport with other kinds of duck-hunting, and yet on the New England coast the scoters and old squaws are regularly killed, and to the natives along the shore have a certain amount of value. They are not edible in the market sense, but many a Connecticut longshoreman is glad of their meat and the feathers are regularly saved, 62 The Waterfowl Family Frequenting, as they do, the deep water and rocky shores, the shooting differs to a certain extent from other ducking methods. Points and rocky islands near their feeding-grounds are often used to decoy them from. As a rule they readily stool, but when much shot can become as wary as many other ducks. Any dark decoys suffice for scoters ; they come to the wooden ducks in rather an awk- ward way, often so low down as to plunge into the water before the gunner fires. On seeing the mistake the birds swim off, or sometimes dive, taking wing when at a safe distance. Old squaws are faster, and afford better shooting. The general disposition of all these ducks, to fly low, is made the most of in line shooting. This is employed regularly on Long Island Sound. Anywhere from ten to twenty gunners anchor their boats in a line at intervals of a hundred yards or more across some harbor or off a far point. The birds do not change their course, but keep straight over the boats, coming with all available speed, often bunching up as the gun is raised. Under favorable circumstances the shooting is thick and fast, and reminds one of a bombardment, the heavy guns resounding and reverberating along the shores for miles. The ducks usually shot in this way are the several varieties of scoters, —coots as they are called lo- cally, — old squaws, and in some places eiders (the ALONG THE MARSH Duck-shooting 63 f eider is not uncommon off Massachusetts), rarely broadbill and the wilder ducks. Very often _ amusing instances happen in line shooting; a bird, bewildered by successive shots, sometimes passes over the whole line of boats, and is missed in turn by one after the other. In one instance I saw a white-winged scoter reach the end man, after having called forth a shot from every boat; but at the last crack the bird doubled up and the gunner let out a yell of triumph which was short- lived, for the falling bird struck him square in the stomach and came near putting him out for good and all. It was a case of an unexpected double. This shooting is much facilitated by attaching the anchor to a buoy, and tying the boat to this, thus avoiding lifting the anchor whenever a bird is to be picked up. On the Connecticut shore of the Sound, the Thimble Islands used to be, and are at present, a favorite spot for line shooting, and many a ducking party has the old Money Island hotel entertained. THE DECREASE OF WILD FOWL Between 1870 and 1875 fifteen thousand ducks were not uncommonly killed on Chesapeake Bay in a single day. Here in February and March it was possible to see red-heads and canvas-backs in rafts miles long, containing countless thousands of birds. In the old days, Baltimore was the 64 The Water-fowl Family headquarters for most of the sportsmen, and the famous locations for shooting were Carroll’s Island, Spesutia Island, Maxwell’s Point, and Benjies. Formerly the eastern shores of Chesapeake Bay, from the Sassafras River, through Pocomoke Sound, and down the Bay, and on the western side from Baltimore to the James River, were favorite resorts. What stories of ducks and duck-shooting could these places tell! Wild fowl up to 1860 had not been much hunted in this country, and during the Civil War were unmo- lested. From 1865 began their destruction, which has been steadily increasing since, with a result inevitable. In twenty-five years the greatest nat- ural home in the world for wild ducks has been nearly devastated of its tenants. The past few years have shown some betterment in the shoot- ing there, and, with care, it may still improve, but the vast hordes of the past will not return. Inland bodies of water, extending through the Middle West to the mountains, tell the same story. What sights were once seen on the sloughs of Indiana, Illinois, and Minnesota! Now, in many places, the numbers left, an insignificant remnant, bear evidence of the past. After the large game had been destroyed and driven off, the small game was taken up, and the past twenty years have decimated the wild fowl almost beyond concep- tion, Practically unprotected, shot from their first Duck-shooting 65 coming in the fall to the end of their stay in the spring, the result has been inevitable. Many of the most famous resorts are devastated, and the existing haunts exposed to such incessant perse- cution that local extinction is threatened unless prompt measures of relief are afforded. Excessive shooting can be assigned as the prime cause of destruction, and under this head comes, first of all, spring shooting. Until recently, throughout all of our Western states and adjacent Canada, wild fowl have been shot until May. At this time they are preparing to breed, some actu- ally nesting, and it can be readily seen that de- struction under such circumstances bears directly on future supply. Birds at this time are usually thin and hardly fit for the table, yet the market gunner gets his price, and the ruthless sportsman runs up his score. Until within the past few years the suggestion of abolishing spring shooting has been received with considerable opposition ; it was argued that over a large tract of country the only shooting was at this time. The claim was also made, and more reasonably, that unless spring shooting was forbidden in all Western states, and along the entire migratory course, legislation in a single state would have but little orno result. The effect of stopping spring shoot- ing, even in isolated states, has been attended with such satisfactory improvement in the fall F 66 The Waterfowl Family shooting, that sportsmen are now universally con- vinced of the absolute necessity of protecting our water-fowl at this season. In the United States, the Western states along the northern border are all breeding-grounds for water-fowl, and it is here protection is most essential. In North Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin legislation prohibiting spring shooting has been attended with remarkable results in the comparatively short period of its existence, and, in many instances, market gunners admit the benefit. In the upper peninsula of Michigan the open season closes January 15; in Minnesota, January 1; in Wiscon- sin and North Dakota, January 1; in Idaho, March 1; in Ontario, December 15; Newfound- land, January 12; California, North Carolina, British Columbia, and Nova Scotia have a close — season in March. In most of the other states the close season begins later. In Ontario, a few years since, the marshes were almost devoid of breeding ducks. At the present time thousands of black duck, mallard, and teal are seen nesting. This same statement can be easily true elsewhere. Recently duck-shooting in Connecticut has been prohibited after April 1. The law has been in force for one year. Last spring, in many of the harbors of Long Island Sound, there were more ducks than had been seen in years, a fact specially true of the broadbill. There is a strong objection Duck-shooting 67 in many of the Southern states against abolishing spring shooting. Its advocates claim that at the time of leaving the bays and rivers of the South, wild fowl are still in flocks and unmated; that they are far from the breeding-grounds. As a matter of fact, this protection is more needed in the South than in the North. In the early spring the vast hordes of migratory wild fowl are south, not north. In many instances they are mated, though still in flocks. If there is any reason for protecting wild fowl in the North in April, the same reason holds good for their protection in the South during March. Another fact, that perhaps many of our sportsmen do not appreciate, is that numbers of our water-fowl actually breed in the South. The southern variety of black duck, the blue-winged teal, and the mallard, all nest farther south than has been supposed. It is the duty of every man interested in sporting to use his influ- ence against spring shooting. The effect on our wild fowl, of a universal protection at this time throughout the United States, would be surprising even in the following fall; if this could once be realized, there would be few sportsmen and market gunners who would not sanction it, even from selfish motives. Another cause of the destruction of our water- fowl, that can be to a certain extent corrected, is too large bags by sportsmen. It is only on occa- 68 The Water-fowl Family sions, in many places, that circumstances favor the gunner, and many a conscientious man feels he is justified in taking every advantage. But if our wild ducks are to be preserved, even in present numbers, self-sacrifice is necessary. In North Dakota a law restricting each man’s portion to twenty-five birds has gone a long way to prevent the wanton destruction of game. Rules restrict- ing the quantity of game killed have long been in use by many clubs with most excellent results, and state legislation to this same effect, though perhaps difficult to enforce, would undoubtedly be of benefit. Market gunning has been responsible in many instances for utter destruction of game, and the high prices paid in the East for varieties of ducks most excellent for the table have made it possible for the pot-hunter to thrive. The result has been a foregone conclusion, and the most famous resorts along the Atlantic Coast have been stripped of their wild fowl. With market gunning go hand in hand all the illegal methods of killing, — shoot- ing at night, the use of large-bore guns, in short, any possible means to destroy game. With the present facilities for cold storage, the market ca- pacity is unlimited; this evil, however, could be effectually obviated, and by preventing the sale and storing of wild fowl, probably more would be done toward actual protection than by any other Duck-shooting 69 means. In many of our states the exportation of game has been prohibited for several years, and for this law North Dakota is again conspicuous. The effect has been that the largest area in the United States for small game has been saved from market gunning. Exportation laws are readily enforced along all railroad lines, and are a prac- tical means of protection. Excessive shooting has been checked in sections of the South by establishing close days, — three days of the week have been set apart as days of rest for wild fowl, with the result that better shoot- ing is had in the four open days than was previ- ously had in six. The control of shooting lands by clubs has also had a protective influence in many localities. Strict club rules, judiciously en- forced, have gone far toward bettering existing conditions; in this way night gunning has been almost done away with in sections of the South. Too destructive methods of shooting should be legislated against, especially battery shooting, and any means by which large flocks of wild fowl can be approached while resting. The repeating shot- gun comes under this head. The protection of parks, extended in some instances to large game, is just as efficient in saving the destruction of birds. The great benefit of the Yellowstone Park stands out as a conspicuous example of this; all of the ponds and sloughs here are occupied by 70 The Waterfowl Family thousands of breeding wild fowl, as tame in many instances as domestic ducks and geese. These birds are as quick to appreciate protection as large animals. In many of the zodlogical gardens abroad wild fowl are regular migrants, and this disposition has been noticed to a small extent in the New York zodlogical gardens, where wild ducks have often remained for some time in the companionship of captive relatives. No man can see this trait of our wild fowl — to make the most of all he offers them in the way of preservation — without being impressed. To sum up, the imperative need for wild-fowl protection at the present time is a universal law throughout the United States against spring shoot- ing. Game should be exposed for sale in markets through short seasons, if at all; storing of game should be absolutely prohibited; state exporta- tion should be prevented; and there should be an individual limit to the number killed. THE RIVER-DUCKS (Anatide) When the sportsman thinks of “ducking,” some of the birds of this group are sure to pass before his mind, for to it belong the mallard, black duck, baldpate, teal, etc. It is the largest family of the Axatzde, containing about fifty species, which are scattered over most of the Duck-shooting 71 world, though more abundant in the northern hemisphere. They differ from the mergansers in having broad and flat bills with a series of transverse grooves, instead of “teeth,” on the cut- ting surfaces: these grooves are of service in straining out the water from the grasses and other vegetable food which they procure when swimming. The absence of a membranous lobe on the hind toe separates them from the sea- ducks and the mergansers, and their feet and palmations are smaller than those of the former. Their necks are rather short, and, as a rule, the heads of the adult males without a crest. In many of the species the males have a very elegant plumage, as the wood-duck, differing from the plainer females, and most have a bright metallic patch of feathers on the wing. Frequently the male has a summer moult, in which he assumes a dull plumage, much resembling that of the female. This lasts while the wing feathers are growing, and is probably a great protection to him during the days or weeks that he cannot fly ; but early in the autumn he acquires again his striking dress. The flight of all is swift and strong, and has been thought in some species to reach a hundred and fifty miles an hour. They spring from the water at a bound, and are instantly under way. Frequenting by preference fresh water, the river- 72 The Waterfowl Family ducks are not uncommon on the bays of the coast in the migrations and in winter, usually in small flocks, and associating to some extent with the sea-ducks. They feed in shallow water, not diving, but thrusting their head and neck to the bottom, and tipping up the body, while they tear off the stems of the water plants which are their chief subsistence. Their flesh is sweet and pala- table almost without exception, although if they are forced to a diet consisting largely of shellfish and crustacea, it may become rank. The females perform all the duties of incubation and care for the young when they are hatched, but in many species the male takes much interest in his family. Some of the most interesting and beautiful mem- bers of the water-fowl belong in this group, such as the mandarin duck of Asia, the shoveller, with a long and spoon-shaped bill with the lateral strainers remarkably developed, and the pintail, with the middle tail feathers very long. Most breed on the ground near the water, but some, as the wood-duck, nest in hollow trees, and the true sheldrakes in holes in banks. This latter fact is taken advantage of by the inhabitants of parts of Denmark, who dig artificial burrows for the shel- drakes, sometimes with several laying compart- ments radiating from a single entrance. Each breeding-chamber is covered with a tightly fitting piece of sod, and through this opening the fresh Duck-shooting WB eggs are collected daily, six being left for the bird to hatch, and once the downy nest itself is taken. The muscovy duck (Cazrzna moschata), a large and handsome species which inhabits tropical America, has been recorded from Louisiana and Indiana, but as it is frequently kept in captivity, mating with the domestic ducks, it is believed that these specimens are not wild birds. The male is a large bird, measuring nearly three feet in length, and the female two feet. On the sides of the forehead of the male are rose-red carun- cles; the head, neck, and lower parts are brownish black, the upper parts metallic blackish green glossed with purple, and the wing-coverts white. The female has a much duller plumage, entirely brownish black, except for a white feather or so on the wing-coverts and a greenish metallic lustre to the upper parts. MALLARD (Anas boschas) Adult male—\In fall, winter, and spring, head and neck, soft, brilliant, metallic green, showing purple and bronze reflections in differ- ent lights ; a ring of pure white around lower neck, interrupted on the nape; upper breast, dark chestnut-brown; wing-coverts, uniform brownish gray, the last row tipped with black and with a subterminal bar of white; speculum, metallic violet, with a subterminal bar of black and a terminal one of white; primaries, plain dark gray; rump, upper tail-coverts, and crissum, black, with soft greenish reflections; tail, white, feathers grayish in the centre, two middle feathers, black, slightly recurved, the two longer upper coverts greatly recurved. Bill, olive-yellow; nail, 74 The Water-fowl Family black ; iris, hazel-brown; legs and feet vary from reddish orange to yellow. Measurements — Length, 24 inches; wing, 12 inches; culmen, 2.20 inches; tarsus, 1.70 inches. The adult male in summer acquires a plumage closely re- sembling the female, but of a darker cast. This is assumed in June. In August the winter dress begins to be resumed, and by October the plumage is usually full. Adult female — Above, dusky brown, the feathers edged with ochraceous, beneath, the general color is paler, the feathers having dark centres, giving a mottled or streaked appearance ; wing, similar to male. Bill, greenish yellow, with black mark- ings; legs and feet, yellowish; iris, hazel. Measurements — Length, 23 inches; wing, 10.50 inches; culmen, 2.25 inches; tarsus, 1.50 inches. Downy young — Above, deep olive, marked by two pairs of light spots, the first pair on the back just behind the wing, the second at base of tail anda light superciliary stripe on the sides of fore- head, head, and nape; dark line from bill through eye; entire under parts, yellowish buff. £ges — Eight to thirteen in number; olive-buff or greenish buff; measure, 2.20 by 1.70 inches. fTabitat — The northern portions of the northern hemisphere, breed- ing in Europe as far south as the Rhone Delta. Breeds in North America from Pennsylvania rarely, Ohio, Indiana, pos- sibly Kentucky, Iowa, Kansas, Colorado, Utah, possibly Arizona and Lower California, and California, north to the Pribilof Islands, Kotzebue Sound, Alaska, the Mackenzie Delta, and east to Fort Anderson, Hudson Bay, Quebec, and Ontario, and in Greenland. Not found in Cumberland, nor apparently in Lab- rador, and rare in migration in Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the Atlantic Coast north of Maryland. Winters in southern Greenland and from Maine rarely, Mary- land regularly, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Kansas, rarely Min- nesota and South Dakota, Wyoming, Idaho, British Columbia and the Aleutian Islands, south to the West Indies and Central America. Occurs also in Bermuda and Hawaii. Duck-shooting 75 The mallard, of all our ducks, is the most liable to hybridism; a few of the more interesting hybrids, described in “ Baird, Brewer, and Ridge- way, are quoted here: — 1. Hybrids with the muscovy duck. These are produced in domestication; the offspring seems to acquire the tendencies of the wild bird, and escapes. It has the broad speculum and broad tail of the muscovy without the recurved feathers of the mallard. Head and upper half of neck black with green reflections, white on throat and under the eyes, breast and sides chestnut, rest of lower parts white. Flanks slate, speculum green, feet orange. Measurements: wing 13.20, culmen 2Oy LakSus) 2.20, 2. Hybrids with the pintail. No. 6668, Na- tional Museum. This specimen in form and coloration throughout is a perfect combination of both species. The upper tail-coverts are purplish black, the two middle tail feathers are elongated half as much as in Dafila acuéa, and curled half as tightly as in Avas boschas. Bill, dark lead color; feet, reddish; wing 11 inches, culmen 2.20, tarsus 1.55. 3. Hybrids with the black duck. The specimen isan adult male. Sides and back of head brilliant green, breast strongly tinged with chestnut, the lateral, upper, and terminal lower tail-coverts are black with violet reflections; middle tail feathers 76 | The Water-fowl Family recurved. Length 23.50, wing 10.75, culmen 2.05. Iris brown, feet dull orange. I once shot a black duck in which the head was marked with a few green feathers, the plumage otherwise resembling Azas obscura. These hybrids with the black duck are more frequent than supposed. No duck has a wider geographical range than the mallard. Inthe Old World it is found through- out Europe, Asia, and northern Africa, breeding from Spain to Lapland and Siberia; in North America, from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Sea and from coast to coast. Generally abundant throughout the United States, it is uncommon along the Atlantic Coast, north of the Chesa- peake. The mallard breeds sparingly through most of its range, abundantly in the United States from the northern border north; in the Rocky Mountains, from Montana to Alaska; in the interior, from Dakota and Manitoba along the watercourses to Hudson Bay; in the country west from Hudson Bay and north to the Arctic sea. The marshy ponds and sloughs of the prairie are the nesting-grounds of vast numbers. The nest is placed among the rushes on the ground, and is composed of grass and weeds, lined with feathers. The eggs number from twelve to fif- teen, and are covered with down. In the far Duck-shooting vi) North the nest is frequently several rods from water, usually among trees or scrub brush; in rare instances the bird has resorted to a deserted hawk’s or crow’s nest. During the period of incubation the duck takes full charge, the males congregating by themselves. She is a close sitter, and can sometimes be lifted from her nest. If disturbed, the old bird often feigns wounded. The ducklings take readily to the water, diving and hiding at the suspicion of danger. By the latter part of August they are fledged, and at this time are killed in large num- bers by the natives. August and September, 1894, were spent by the writer in North Dakota. Early in September, mallards and shovellers were the most abundant ducks, but among all the mallards killed there was not a single green-head, nor was one seen until September 20, when a drake was shot in about half-full plumage. By the first week in October the birds are well established in their fall homes. The extensive marshes of our Western states are their favorite resorts in the early fall, and on their first arrival many are killed from boats pushed through the rushes, or from passes along their line of flight. Continuous persecution soon makes them wild, and we find them keeping to the open water during the day, coming at night to the marshes to feed. In certain localities the 48 The Waterfowl Family mallard frequents the corn-fields and stubbles. They are, to a large degree, nocturnal in their habits, and depend on their sense of touch and smell in feeding. When hunting a few years since on Currituck Sound, the cunning of the mallards especially impressed me. Sunset closes the gunner’s day; almost immediately the first flocks of mallard come; the marshes, all day long devoid of ducks, now hear their whistling wings. Birds that have alighted call to those in the air, and their quacking is almost a din. At the first streak of dawn they are gone. They know the close days as well as the hunter. In some of the ponds near the club-house, shooting was not allowed. They frequented these spots with as little concern as the flock of decoys kept there. Few birds come to stool any better when once they start; often the live decoys see them first, and the far-off flock respond to the call. If high in air they drop and circle within range, but, quick to notice danger, at the slightest movement from the blind they spring into the air with a frightened quack and are off. The rice fields of the South are favorite haunts, and on this diet or wild celery the flesh is unsurpassed. In parts of the West along the salmon rivers, mallards sometimes feed on the maggots infesting the dead fish, and become intolerably rank. On the northeastern coast of the United States and Canada the bird is rare, Duck-shooting 79 on Long Island occasionally occurring among flocks of black duck. In Connecticut it is found regularly, but it is far from common. Several instances of its occurrence in the last few years have been observed by the writer. Rarely they have been killed offshore on Long Island Sound. From time immemorial the mallard, of all the wild ducks, has been most readily domesticated, prob- ably because of its general distribution in all countries and climates, and has been known to live twenty-two years in captivity. BLACK DUCK (Anas obscura) Adult male— Top of head, black, narrowly edged with buff, remainder of head and neck, buff, streaked with brown ; throat and chin, im- maculate buff; rest of plumage, dusky, paler beneath; all the feathers, except those on lower back and rump, edged with light brown ; speculum, metallic blue, sometimes green, edged with black ; lower wing-coverts, white ; bill, yellowish green or olive ; nail, black; legs and feet, olivaceous brown; webs, dusky; iris, brown. Measurements — Length, 22 inches; wing, 10.50 inches; culmen, 2.05 inches; tarsus, 1.60 inches. Adult female— Resembles male, but is usually smaller and less richly colored. Young — Similar to adult, with bill more of a greenish hue and streaked with dusky. Downy young — Above olive-brown, relieved by six faint markings of buff, one pair on the posterior border of each wing, one on each side of back behind wings, one on each side ofrump; top of head and back of neck, brown like the back; under parts, light buff. £ggs —Six to twelve in number; pale buff to pale greenish buff; measure 2.30 by 1.70 inches. 80 The Water-fowl Family Habitat — Breeds from the coast of North Carolina (formerly ?) and from Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana (?), Illinois, and Iowa, north to Sable Island, Newfoundland, southern Labrador, Quebec, - Ontario, and eastern Manitoba. Winters from the coast of Massachusetts, western New York (?), Indiana(?), and Ken- tucky, south to Florida, the West Indies, Alabama, and Louisiana. Recorded from Bermuda and Texas(?), and very doubtfully from Utah. Rare west ofthe Alleghanies. This bird is the standard game duck of the northeastern United States and Canada, occur- ring on all the bodies of water inland and along the coast. Exposed on all sides to gunning of every description, the black duck thrives, and holds its own with a reputation for cunning and wisdom unsurpassed. It breeds regularly farther south than has been generally supposed. Northern New England, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and eastern Canada north of the St. Lawrence are favorite breeding-grounds. It nests sparingly in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Long Island. For several years the writer noticed in early August a brood of young black duck on the Quinnipiac River, a short distance from New Haven. The nest is composed of coarse grass, and is generally situated in a swamp or marsh close to the water. From eight to twelve eggs are laid. The young are hatched in late June, and carefully guarded and concealed by the old bird, who keeps them close to the marsh, where long grass and weeds afford a ready protec- AIVWaA GNV AIVN—SxwONG AOvId AO AASNA = Duck-shooting 81 tion. If disturbed under these circumstances, the old duck remains perfectly quiet, only quacking when she jumps into the air. Left alone, the young ducks occasionally betray their presence by a frightened peep. The brood rapidly grows to full size on a diet of insects, grubs, and various water-grasses, and by the latter part of August are full grown and able to flap out of the long grass. Now they are easily killed, and their flesh is most tender and excellent. In localities where blueberries grow near the water they are a favorite food. On the Magdalen Islands the writer has frequently seen black duck feeding high up on the hills among the blueberry bushes, in company with Hudsonian curlew. The families soon congregate, and in the early fall we find them in flocks of more than fifty. By the _ middle of October they appear in numbers along our coast, frequenting the ponds and rivers a short distance inland and the shallow bays, espe- cially where there are marshes. They are a wel- come sight to every duck-hunter. At first killed in some numbers, they soon learn all the gunner’s craft, during the day keeping to the open water, and if in any uncertain place, well guarded by sen- tinels; they spring into the air with loud quack- ing at the first suspicion of danger. In places where black duck are much hunted, and there are few spots where they are not, the birds come to G 82 The Water-fowl Family the feeding-grounds on their favorite marshes only at night. Here pot-hunters keep watch, driving them off, but not frequently killing many. An overcast moonlight night offers the best opportunity for this illegal shooting, as then the birds can be seen at some distance. The most popular hunting-grounds for black duck are the marshes near the shallow bays and larger rivers of the Atlantic Coast, from the St. Lawrence to Currituck Sound. The large marshes of Lake Erie and Ontario are famous resorts. On the bays about the Chesapeake they are most fre- quently killed over decoys, placed off the points and islands, where rushes and marsh grass afford good blinds. If the birds are much shot at, live decoys are far the most satisfactory. These can be used jointly with the wooden stool, and ducks with a disposition to quack should be selected. Heavy weather affords best chance for shooting black duck. The birds under these cir- cumstances leave the larger bodies of water, and lead up under the lee of points close to them marshes, keeping continually on the move. No wild duck taxes the patience of a gunner more. Suspicious and wary, they often circle about the stool, lighting beyond them, just out of range, watching for the slightest movement, when they jump high in the air with an exasperating quack. If wounded, the bird skulks with head just above Duck-shooting 83 the water’s edge; and where reeds and long grass afford shelter, it is almost impossible to retrieve except by a well-trained dog. In some instances black duck, like mallard, are baited by corn placed on the feeding-ground. If exposed to tide or current, the grain should be well soaked first. No food is too good for black duck, and on the tender grasses abounding on the feeding-grounds of the South the flavor of their flesh is unsurpassed. Along the coast, in the deeper bays, small shell- fish and crustacea comprise part of their diet, and should winter weather keep them from the marshes their flesh becomes almost fishy. While many black duck winter along the New England coast where they find open water, there is a regu- lar spring and fall migration of these birds winter- ing farther south. Late in March we find them in pairs. Now they seek the smaller ponds and streams, going on to the fresh-water meadows. Birds I have shot at this time have often had angleworms in their stomachs. The habits of the black duck and the mallard are similar, and in localities where the two are found they associate. The flight is characteristic, high and strong but irregular, and not in any line. When near by the white under wing-coverts are noticeable. Black duck can be reared in confine- ment, but for decoy purposes these birds are not as satisfactory as domesticated mallards. 84 The Water-fowl Family This species is also known as the dusky duck, and the black mallard. RED-LEGGED BLACK DUCK (Anas obscura rubripes) Adult male —“ Similar to A. obscura, but larger; the feathers of the pileum conspicuously edged with grayish or fulvous; the dark markings on the fore neck and the sides of the head, coarser, blacker, and more sharply defined; the entire throat usually streaked or spotted with blackish ; the tarsi and toes bright red ; the bill yellow.” Measurements — Length, 25 inches; wing, 11 inches; culmen, 2.15 inches; tarsus, 1.70 inches. Adult female—Resembles male, but is smaller and less richly colored. £ggs — (Probably this form since taken at Rupert House, James Bay) grayish white, tinged sometimes with green ; measure, 2.45 by 1.77 inches. Habitat — Taken in the breeding season from James Bay, north to northern Labrador and the west shore of Hudson Bay, and probably Fort Anderson. Occurs in the migration on the Atlantic Coast from Newfoundland to North Carolina, and to Arkansas in the interior, wintering from Chignecto Bay, Nova Scotia, south. Probably the birds recorded in winter from western New York and Indiana, and possibly those in Ken- tucky, as well as part of the migrants reported from Ohio, IIli- nois, Michigan, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Nebraska, and Missouri, belong to this subspecies. This is the large black duck with red legs and a yellow bill that frequents the bays of New Eng- land and the Middle states in winter, coming to the marshes at night for food and water, when most of the small black ducks, with olive bills and brownish legs, have gone farther south. The Duck-shooting 85 difference between the two forms has been shown recently by Mr. William Brewster. FLORIDA DUCK (Anas fulvigula) Similar to Avas obscura, but slightly smaller; the difference being its lighter color, the chin, throat, front of neck, and most of cheeks being a creamy buff and unspotted; speculum, green, sometimes upper part white; the buffy ochraceous margins are wider and brighter both above and below. A constant point of distinction is in the bill, the base of which in this species is margined by a narrow black line, which widens out into a tri- angular space beneath the feathering of the lores. Measurements — Length, 20 inches; wing, Io to 10.50 inches; tail, 5 inches; culmen, 2.05 to 2.33 inches; width of bill, .go inch; tarsus, 1.70 to 1.80 inches; middle toe, 1.90 to 2 inches. Eegs— Eight to fourteen in number; pale dull buff, sometimes tinged with green; measure 2.15 by 1.60 inches. .s Habitat — Resident in Florida, chiefly in the southern part of the state, and becoming rare. Possibly occurs in West Indies; re- corded also from Louisiana, and said to breed on the coast. The Florida black duck for a long time has been recognized as a distinct species. Its breed- ing range is confined entirely to the South. Instances of the black duck breeding south of the Carolinas are probably this variety. The nesting time in Florida is early in April (accord- ing to Mr. N. B. Moore). The bird nests not frequently at some distance from the water's edge, always on the ground. The female plucks the down from her breast for the nest lining. Eight to ten eggs are laid of a slightly lighter shade 86 The Water-fowl Family than the eggs of the common black duck. In its habit the bird closely resembles Azas obscura. inemiesinmismexcellent: Mr. N. B. Moore, in “ Baird, Brewer, and Ridge- way, gives an interesting description of this bird : “In August and September small flocks leave the fresh ponds and fly across the bay to sand-bars on the inner sides of the keys, where they spend the night in pools or coves, returning at sunrise. Those shot at this time are all males. In the late winter and early spring mated birds resort to the same places.” Mr. Moore suggests as a reason for this species not being more common in the districts it frequents, the sweeping fires which destroy the dry grass. MOTTLED DUCK (Anas fulvigula maculosa) This subspecies resembles closely the Florida variety, differing from it in that the cheeks are streaked with brown, instead of being plain buff; the speculum is purple; in general effect the plumage is mottled and not streaked; bill has a small black spot on base of lower edge of upper mandible, as in the Florida variety ; feet, reddish orange. Measurements — Length, 20 inches; wing, 1o inches; culmen, 2.25 inches; tarsus, 1.75 inches; middle toe, 1.50 inches. £ggs — Seven to ten in number; resemble those of the Florida duck in color and measurement. Habitat — Breeds from Louisiana, Texas, and probably northern Mexico, north to Kansas, and has been taken in Colorado. Winters on the Gulf Coast of Louisiana, Texas, and northern Mexico. Duck-shooting 87 For years the mottled duck was confused with the black duck, and still later with the Florida duck. Its habits are similar to those of these birds. Mr. E. A. McIlhenny states that on April 28, 1896, he shot in Louisiana a male mallard (4. boschas) mated with a female of this species, and collected the nest with ten eggs. GADWALL (Chaulelasmus streperus) Adult male — Top of head, reddish brown of varying shades, spotted with black; rest of head, light buff speckled with dark brown; throat, indistinctly spotted with brown; upper part of back and breast, marked with crescentric black and white bars; back, scapulars, and flanks, undulated with slate-color and white; long scapulars, edged with brown; lesser coverts, gray; middle cov- erts, chestnut; greater coverts, black; secondaries, pale gray, with outer edge forming a speculum of white; upper and under tail-coverts, black; tail, dark gray, edged with white; rest of under parts, white; bill, bluish black; nail, black; iris, hazel ; legs and feet vary from yellowish to orange-yellow; webs, dark. Measurements — Length, 20 inches; wing, 10.75 inches; tail, 8.90 inches ; culmen, 1.80 inches; tarsus, 1.70 inches. Adult female —Somewhat resembles the male, but the upper parts dusky, edged with buff, and the under wing-coverts are pure white, and there is little or no chestnut on the lesser wing- coverts; bill, dusky orange near the edges; legs and feet, yel- lowish, with dark webs; slightly smaller than the male. Measurements — Length, 19 inches; wing, 10 inches; culmen, 1.70 inches; tarsus, 1.60 inches. Young — Similar to female, but with no chestnut or black on the wings. Downy young— Upper parts, dark brown, with yellow spots on sides and back and rump; lower parts, grayish; forehead, throat, and chest, yellowish. 88 The Water-fowl Family Eggs — Eight to twelve in number; cream-color; measure, 2.15 by 1.50 inches. Habitat — “ Nearly cosmopolitan.” In North America, breeds from Ohio, Michigan, Minnesota, Nebraska, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and the interior of California, north to Ontario, Hudson Bay, Assiniboia, and Alberta, and possibly the lower Mackenzie and the Yukon rivers. Winters from Virginia, possibly Maryland, Illinois, Louisiana, Texas, Arizona, Utah, Wyoming, and Cali- fornia, south to Lower California, Mexico, and the West Indies. In migrations occurs very rarely on the Atlantic Coast north to Maine and Quebec, and on the Pacific to British Columbia, and one is recorded from the Aleutian Islands in December. Occurs in Bermuda. The gadwall is found more commonly in the interior than on the coast, and seems to prefer the prairie sloughs and marshes to the wooded lakes. The table-lands of North America, from Dakota and Montana south into Mexico, is the area over which they are most abundant. In April, 1901, near Tampico, I saw thousands of these birds. They were in large flocks near the shores of the lakes. We approached them in our dugouts and had no difficulty in coming within range, the birds starting up in front and settling down ahead to other flocks. At this time they did not appear to be mated. The flesh was excellent, and a happy change from the monotony of a Mexican diet. Later in May we found them still common near Chihuahua; here they were in pairs, evidently about to nest. The gadwall undoubtedly breeds throughout most of its range. Creeks and marshes well Duck-shooting 89 lined with rushes are the sites selected. Here the nest is placed on the ground, constructed of grass, and carefully concealed, the duck covering her eggs well with down. The young birds are fledged late in August. In North Dakota many of the ducks seen in early September are gadwall, young birds undoubtedly bred in the vicinity. They leave before the first of October. In most of the more popular duck-hunting resorts through- out the United States, this bird is not as frequently met with as other water-fowl. This, and the fact that it does not decoy readily, makes it somewhat of a stranger. The gadwall is found most often in small flocks by itself or in the company of widgeon. It feeds in the shallow muddy creeks and pools on various kinds of vegetable matter. The birds become very fat, and if shot from a height the fall sometimes breaks open the skin. The flesh is delicate and tender, but in localities has a sedgy taste. On the wing the gadwall is an imposing bird, the dark breast giving it a black appearance. It is known by a variety of names, such as creek-duck, speckled belly, gray duck, gray widgeon, Welch drake, German duck. EUROPEAN WIDGEON (Mareca penelope) Adult male— Forehead and top of head, white, sometimes buff, rest of head rufous brown; cluster of small green spots behind eye; chin and throat, black; breast, pinkish brown; back and sides, 90 The Water-fowl Family undulated with black and white ; wing-coverts, white ; speculum, green; lower parts, white; under tail-coverts, black; tail, pointed, brownish, becoming black at tip; iris, hazel; bill, slate; nail, black; legs and feet, slate, with dusky webs. Measurements — Length, 18 inches; wing, to inches; culmen, 1.40 inches; tarsus, 1.50 inches. Adult female — Head and neck, rusty, speckled with black; upper parts, dusky brown, margined with gray ; wings, greenish brown ; speculum, dull black; upper tail-coverts, brown; tail, purplish brown, feathers edged with white ; breast and sides, light brown ; rest of under parts, white ; under tail-coverts, barred with black- ish brown; iris, brown; bill, slate; nail, black; legs and feet, brown, with dusky webs. Measurements—Length, 18 inches; wing, 10.50 inches; culmen, 1.36 inches; tarsus, I.50 inches. Feggs — Five to eight in number; pale buff; measure, 2.20 by 1.50 inches. Habitat— The northern parts of the eastern hemisphere, breeding west to Iceland. Breeds probably also on the Aleutian Islands and possibly in Greenland and west of Hudson Bay. In the migrations and in winter, several have been recorded from Cali- fornia, one from Nova Scotia, and twenty-five or thirty from Massachusetts, New York, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, Nebraska, and from Ken- ewatin and Great Slave Lake, though the last record may refer to 7. americana, as the Kenewatin record certainly does. This bird, while breeding off Alaska to some extent, is a rare straggler to the United States; the more noteworthy instances of its occurrences being on Long Island, December, 1842, Alex- andria, Virginia, occasionally along the coast of California. Two instances the writer has seen: one an adult male, taken on the Illinois River; the second a full-plumaged male, killed on Long Island in the winter of 1899. The bird in most Duck-shooting | 91 cases has been shot in company with the American widgeon. That it occurs more frequently than is supposed, would be indicated by the fact that in some localities gunners speak of a red-headed widgeon, supposing the bird to be across between a red-head and a common widgeon, or baldpate. Undoubtedly birds of this species are referred to. In habits the European widgeon resembles the American variety, frequenting marshes and shal- low bodies of water in their vicinity; but, unlike the American baldpate, is frequently seen on salt water, feeding almost entirely on the short grass growing on the bottom. The widgeon has been known to reach the age of twenty-three years. BALDPATE (Mareca americana) Adult male — Forehead and top of head, white ; a patch of metallic green behind the eye extends down the neck posteriorly; remainder of head, buff speckled with black ; back and scapulars, brown, undulated with black; wing-coverts, white; the greater coverts, tipped with black forming a bar across the wing ; specu- lum, green and black; under wing-coverts, white; breast and sides, pale lilac, rest of under parts, pure white ; under tail-coverts black; tail, brown, edged with white; bill, slate, with a black nail; legs and feet, slate with dusty webs. Measurements — Length, 19 inches ; wing, 10.50 inches ; culmen, 1.50 inches ; tarsus 1.50 inches. Adult female — Top of head, black, edged with white; rest of head, buff streaked with dusky; upper breast and sides, reddish buff, with dark spots on breast; rest of under parts, white; upper parts, dusky, barred with buff; iris, brown; legs and feet, brown with dusky webs. 92 The Water-fowl Family Measurements — Length, 18 inches ; wing, 10.20 inches ; culmen, 1.40 inches; tarsus, 1.40 inches. Young male — Resembles the female closely. Its general coloring, however, is deeper. The breast and flanks are more vinaceous, and the wing markings more clearly defined. ‘Downy young — Upper parts, dark olive; lower part of head and neck and under parts, lighter; spots of buff on each side of back and rump. £gegs — Eight to twelve in number; ivory-white in color; measure 2.20 by 1.45 inches. HTabitat — Recorded as breeding from Indiana, Illinois, Minnesota, Kansas, Colorado, Texas, Arizona, Utah, and British Columbia, north to Hudson Bay, Fort Anderson, Kotzebue Sound, the Yukon Delta, and probably the Aleutian Islands: breeds chiefly north of the United States. Winters from Maryland, irregularly north to Maine, Indiana, the lower Mississippi Valley, Texas, Idaho, Nevada, and British Columbia, south to the West Indies, Central America, and Lower California. Recorded as a migrant in Newfoundland and Labrador, and as a straggler in Europe, Bering Islands, Kamchatka, Hawaii, and Bermuda. This bird bears the unenviable reputation of a telltale; quick to notice danger and always ready to sound an alarm, many a flock of unsus- pecting ducks has turned out of harm’s way under the leadership of a wary widgeon. The favorite haunts in the United States are the lakes and rivers of the middle and western United States and, in localities, the coasts. They are common along the southern and Lower Cali- fornia shores and on the Atlantic south of Maryland. The breeding-grounds are well to the north, on the Yukon and Mackenzie rivers, even to the Duck-shooting 93 Arctic Sea, rarely in the northern United States, both east and west of the Rocky Mountains. Wild lakes and rivers not much frequented by other ducks are the spots widgeon choose for their nests, which are placed on high dry ground in the woods, sometimes half a mile from water. The nest is constructed among the dry leaves, usually at the foot of a tree, the eggs well covered with down. During incubation the males collect by themselves and moult, assuming through the summer a dull plumage. In early October they appear in Dakota, Montana, and Minnesota, choos- ing the ponds and lakes of larger size. At first they are shot in some numbers where there are passes under their flight; but they quickly become shy and fly high over land. A little later we find them throughout California and Colorado, and in the valley of the Salt Lake. By the end of October they appear on the Atlantic Coast. Here the mouths of the larger rivers and bays of brackish water are their haunts. As they keep well out of range of the points and only fly high over the marshes, it is difficult to kill them. At times these birds associate with canvas-back and black-heads, feeding on the grass the others dive for, and hence the name poacher. In heavy weather, with mallard and black duck, they come on to the marshes within range of the blind. In these instances the widgeon is usually the first to 94 The Water-fowl Family give alarm; rising high in the air with strong, swift flight, it quickly speeds beyond reach. Often we see flocks of them with pintail, both birds being of much the same habit. Usually in small numbers, widgeon collect in large flocks in the spring. On Currituck Sound, in March of some years, the numbers of these ducks are remarkable and yet few are killed. They seem to have a morning and evening flight. In the late afternoon, flock after flock, high up, far out of range, follow each other in quick succession lead- ing toward the marshes and flats of the upper bay, returning in the early morning. The line of flight is abreast, and their clear whistling loud and characteristic. When wounded the bird skulks but seldom dives. They feed on wild celery where it exists, and on various water grasses, in the South visiting the rice-fields. It is one of our highly esteemed ducks for the table. In the various locations where it is found it goes by various names, such as the American widgeon, poacher, wheat-duck, baldcrown, baldpate, green- headed widgeon, zan-zan. The female of this species resembles slightly the gadwall, but distinction can readily be made by the speculum, which is gray in the gadwall, in the widgeon black, and by the dark mandible. Duck-shooting 95 EUROPEAN GREEN-WINGED TEAL (WVettzon crecca) Adult male — Similar to the American species, but without white bar on the breast ; the forehead and wing-coverts bordered by a pale buff line; the black and white markings on back and sides are broader. The female is hardly distinguishable from the female of the American green-winged teal. Habitat—Inhabits the northern parts of eastern hemisphere, breed- ing from Iceland to the Commander Islands, and south to north- western Africa and Japan, and in winter occurs from the Canary Islands, northern Africa, Somaliland, and India, east to the Philippines. Recorded in North America from Green- land, Labrador, Nova Scotia, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, Virginia, California, and the Aleutian Islands. This bird has occasionally been taken in many parts of America, and is probably more common than supposed, it being overlooked on account of its close resemblance to the North American variety. In size, eggs, and habits it resembles our species. GREEN-WINGED TEAL (WVettion carolinensis) Adult male— Head and neck, chestnut, with broad, metallic green band from eye to nape, terminating in a tuft of purplish black ; a narrow, buff line borders the under side of the green band; chin, black; back and sides, crossed with narrow, wavy black and white lines; lower back, dark brownish gray; upper tail- coverts, dusky, edged with white; tail feathers, brownish gray, edged with white; a broad white bar in front of bend of wing; speculum, metallic green, bordered beneath by a broad, black bar, tipped with white; breast, light buff, mottled with round, black spots, growing indistinct on under parts, which are white ; 96 The Water-fowl Family buff patch on each side of crissum; under tail-coverts, black ; bill, black; legs and feet, dark brown; webs, dusky. Measurements — Length, 14.50 inches; wing, 7.25 inches; culmen, 1.50 inches ; tarsus, 1.25 inches. Adult female —Top of head and neck, brown, feathers edged with ochraceous; sides of head and neck, light buff, speckled with dusky ; chin and throat, buff; upper parts, dusky, feathers barred and margined with pale buff; wing, similar to male; rump, tail, and upper tail-coverts, brown, edged with white; upper part of breast, dark buff, spotted with brown; rest of under parts, white, with dusky spots; legs and feet, brown; webs, dusky. Measurements — Length, 14.25 inches; wing, 6.70 inches; culmen, 1.40 inches; tarsus, I inch. Young male — Like the female, but under parts, except sides, pure white. The wing is usually brighter. Downy young — Upper parts, grayish brown, a buff spot on each side of back and rump; head, neck, and lower parts, pale buff; top of head, darker brown. Eggs — Eight to sixteen in number, pale buff in color, and measure 1.80 by 1.30 inches. Habitat — Breeds from Newfoundland, New Brunswick, Vermont, Quebec, possibly Pennsylvania, Indiana, Michigan, and Ontario, Minnesota, South Dakota, Utah, and Oregon, and south in the mountains to Colorado, Arizona, and probably New Mexico, north to Labrador, possibly Greenland, Fort Anderson, Kotzebue Sound, and St. Michael, Alaska, and the Aleutian Islands. Win- ters from Maryland, casually north to Maine, western New York, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, Nebraska, Texas, Nevada, Brit- ish Columbia, and the Aleutian Islands, south to the West Indies, Central America, and Lower California. Recorded from Great Britain, Bermuda, and Hawaii. This beautiful bird resembles almost exactly the European variety. While well known through- out our country it is not particularly common on the Atlantic Coast. The green-winged teal breeds farther north than the blue-winged, and Duck-shooting : 97 follows it on the southern migration. In summer passing into the British provinces, they nest as far north as Hudson Bay and Alaska, the south- ern limit of their breeding range being our northern mountain states. The nest, placed in a marsh and composed of grass, is neatly hidden. In mountainous countries a meadow along the stream is often the site. Occasionally the nearest water is some distance off, but this is an excep- tion. The broods are often large, and we some- times see this little duck with a charge of eighteen or more ducklings. The young, about the size of bantam chicks, follow the mother, keeping close to the shore in shallow water, seldom ven- turing far from the cover of grass or weeds. On September 10, 1890, at the Magdalen Islands, I flushed a female of this species. The bird ex- hibited every sign of distress. Soon a faint peep almost under foot revealed a little teal just hatched. After a careful search we found several others in the short grass. The old bird kept close by, flying within a few feet of us, uttering a plaintive note of alarm. This was undoubtedly a late second brood. The green-winged teal arrive in the United States after the blue-winged, and we find them in flocks together in September. They associate often with mallard and black duck, and have many habits in common, In Mexico the three varie- H 98 The Waterfowl Family ties of teal are abundant, occurring together for a short time in the spring of the year. In April the green- and blue-winged were about equal in number with an occasional cinnamon teal. Three weeks later the green-winged teal had mostly gone, but we saw the blue-winged with the cinnamon. On the Atlantic Coast this bird occasionally straggles offshore and is killed with the sea ducks. An instance of this came to my notice last winter, when a full-plumaged male was killed by Charles Langfare, off Branford, Connecticut, in the Sound; it came to broadbill decoys. The favorite haunts of the green-winged teal in the United States are the marshes and shallow lakes of the Western states. It is common in the Rocky Mountain states and in California, arriv- ing early in September and remaining until the first cold weather, when it is one of the first of our ducks to leave for warmer climates. They follow the Mississippi Valley to the Gulf states and are found along the Gulf of Mexico as far south as the shores of Central America, and at times are numerous in the West Indies. Popular with sportsmen and killed relentlessly by market gunners, this bird is exposed everywhere within its available range to persecution; yet it is a pleasure to feel there are some localities where the green-winged teal still exists in large numbers, gentle and undisturbed. Duck-shooting 99 BLUE-WINGED TEAL (Querquedula discors) Adult male — Top of head, chin, and space along base of bill, black ; a crescentric band of white, edged with black, goes from the forehead in front of the eye to the throat; rest of head and neck plumbaceous, with a metallic purple gloss on occiput; back, dusky, with bars of buff; long scapulars, greenish black, with a central stripe of buff; lesser wing-coverts, pale blue; greater coverts, dusky, with white tips forming a bar in front of the speculum, which is metallic green ; lower back and upper tail- coverts, dusky ; a white patch on each side of the tail; entire lower parts, reddish buff, spotted with dusky, becoming paler on lower breast ; under tail-coverts, black ; iris, brown; bill, black; legs and feet, yellow, with dusky webs. Measurements — Length, 15 inches; wing, 7.30 inches; culmen, 1.70 inches; tarsus, 1.20 inches. Adult female — Top of head, black; remainder of head and neck, buff, streaked with dusky; chin and throat, white; upper parts, dusky, feathers edged with buff; wing-coverts, blue, but green speculum is wanting; under parts, buff, with dusky markings ; bill, greenish black; legs and feet, greenish yellow. The blue patch on the shoulder is distinctive. Measurements — Length, 15 inches; wing, 7 inches; culmen, 1.40 inches; tarsus, 1.12 inches. Young male — Similar to female; white throat, speckled with dusky ; green speculum is visible; under parts, buff, barred with dusky. Male during breeding season assumes the dull plumage of the female. Downy young — Top of head and upper parts, brown; buff spots in front of wing, across wing, and at side of rump; forehead, line to eye and lower parts, pale buff; sides of head and hind neck, ochraceous buff. £ggs —Ten to twelve in number, pale buff in color, and measure 1.85 by 1.30 inches. Habitat — Breeds from Maine, occasionally Rhode Island, western New York, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Colorado, Nevada, Wyoming, and British Columbia, and probably Texas, i af C: 100 The Waterfowl Family Arizona, Mexico, and Lower California, north to New Bruns- wick, Labrador, Repulse Bay, Great Slave Lake, Saskatchewan, and possibly the Yukon Delta. Winters from Maryland, Ken- tucky, Missouri, Texas, and California, south to the West Indies, and South America to Ecuador. Rare on the Pacific Coast, and in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia in migration. Re- corded from Europe and Bermuda. While the blue-winged teal is generously dis- tributed in the northern United States and lower provinces of Canada, the birds are in no way partial to cold weather and hurry along at the first frosts. True to the sunny South, they loiter on its inland waters and winter along the bays and lagoons of the Gulf Coast, well into the tropics. This bird loves the rice-fields, where the nature of the place affords protection when once the flocks are settled, their danger being on the flight to and from the feeding-ground. On this diet the teal attains the high reputation it holds among epicures. In late August we find them fully fledged, frequenting the marshes of the West where the wild rice grows. They are relentlessly hunted from time of first arrival. Dur- ing the hours that are sacred to the duck marsh, the time after dawn and toward dusk, they are found. At first many are killed by pushing through the grass as they jump up in front of the skiff or on their line of flight between the ponds. At the approach of evening the first line appears over the tops of the rush-grass, flying low and with Duck-shooting IOI a speed possessed only bya teal. Another minute and they have passed; the rush of their wings told how closely they came; but no one but an old hand could have stopped one. The next flock follow, the gunner rises in time, and they sheer off, crowding together in an attempt to turn; but a well-placed shot drops several birds. So they come on until dark, when the soft whistling overhead tells of ducks still looking iowa spot to) teed and Spend) the night) in peace. The male blue-winged teal in his full spring dress is one of our beautiful water-fowl. The delicate brown speckling of the breast, the light blue and white of the wing, and the soft violet of the head, with a face of white, make a pleasing combination. In this plumage he is seen in April and May, but not commonly on the eastern coast, the journey north being along the water- courses of the interior. We found large numbers of them near Tampico. It was late April, and they were mated but still in small flocks. Undis- turbed and tame, they gathered at the water’s edge on the shores, keeping company with the yellowlegs and other waders; if alarmed, they ran along the flats with the speed of a plover, or springing up they settled at a safer distance. The blue-winged teal undoubtedly breeds spar- ingly far south on its range, but most abundantly 102 The Water-fowl Family on the northern prairies of the United States and Manitoba, choosing the borders of the sloughs of rush-grass. Here the nest is concealed among the weeds and rushes and consists of an accumula- tion of grass lined with feathers. The duck covers her eggs while away from the nest. June is the time for incubation. The male now loses his fine attire and takes on a plain brown plumage, closely resembling that of the duck. In late August the young are fledged and we see the first flocks, the mark of early fall. CINNAMON TEAL (Querquedula cyanoptera) Adult male —Top of head, blackish; rest of head, neck, and lower parts, bright chestnut; back, rump, upper tail-coverts, and tail, olive-brown, feathers lighter on edges ; wing-coverts, pale blue; tips of greater wing-coverts, white, forming bar over a green speculum; bill, black; legs and feet, orange; webs, dusky ; iris, orange. Measurements —Length, 17 inches; wing, 7.25 inches; culmen, 1.80 inches ; tarsus, 1.25 inches. Adult female — Resembles the female blue-winged teal, but more reddish ; sides of head and throat, deep buff ; back, olive-brown ; entire under parts, light brown; breast, rufous, with dusky spots ; bill, dusky ; feet, yellowish. Measurements — Length, 16.50 inches; wing, 6.75 inches; culmen, 1.70 inches; tarsus, 1.25 inches. Young male —Resembles female, but speculum is more distinct and under parts are streaked instead of spotted. Downy young —Top of head and upper parts, olive; under parts, sides of head, and a stripe over the eye, yellowish buff; a narrow, dark brown stripe on sides of head; two pair of buff spots, one on sides of back, the other on sides of rump. Duck-shooting 103 f-ggs — Twelve to fourteen in number; color, ivory-white; measure 1.80 by 1.35 inches. Habitat — Breeds in western North America, north to British Colum- bia, Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, and Colorado, and east to western Kansas, and in western South America, probably south to Chili, where it is known to breed; occurring also in Argentina, Pata- gonia, and the Falkland Islands. All winter south of the United States, excepting stragglers in Louisiana. Recorded also from the West Indies, Florida, New York, Texas, Nebraska, Illinois, Minnesota, Manitoba, and Alberta. The cinnamon teal is hardly common in the United States, where it is found chiefly in Cali- fornia, and is known as the red-breasted teal; but in Mexico, throughout the table-lands, the bird is abundant. The first arrivals come late in March, and by May they are common on all the lakes and lagoons of the mesa. March 20, 1901, while looking for ducks along a little creek near Laguna, I saw, just below the edge of the bank, in the shallow water, some thirty or forty teal, mostly green-winged. After watching them for several minutes in the seclusion of their pool, a hawk started the flock, and as they rose, the dark red of one attracted my attention. It was shot. This was my first introduction to the cinnamon teal, and few birds have given me more pleasure at first acquaintance. By early May they were com- mon wherever there was water, at first associating with the flocks of other teal. These, however, soon left on their journey north, and the cinna- mon teal was abandoned to the companionship 104 The Water-fowl Family of gadwall and shovellers. We often saw this trio of species, the teal frequenting the edges of the ponds, running along the flats, sometimes jump- ing up from the grass near the shore. They were in pairs, and very tame. Undoubtedly these birds came on to the high lands to breed at this time, for they are not found here after the early fall, in September and October resorting to the coasts. The nest is placed near the edge of the pond or marsh, on the ground, and composed of grass, lined with feathers, often concealed by more or less rush-grass loosely scattered over it. RUDDY SHELDRAKE (Casarca casarca) Adult male — Head and neck, buff, grading into orange-brown on the lower portion of the neck, which is surrounded by a black ring; back, breast, and under parts, fox-red; rump, yellowish red, streaked with black; wing-coverts, white, with a speculum of greenish purple; tail and tail-coverts, black; bill, legs, and feet, blackish ; iris, brown. Measurements — Length, 24 inches; wing, 14.50 inches; culmen, 1.75 inches; tarsus, 2.25 inches. Adult female — Similar to the male ; plumage is generally lighter and the color at the base of neck is lacking. £ggs — Eight to ten in number, cream color, measuring 2.55 by 1.85 inches. Habitat — Southern Europe, northern Africa, and southern Asia, east to China and Japan, straggling occasionally to Scandinavia and Iceland, and recorded twice from Greenland. This species has been included among the North American birds on account of the doubtful Duck-shooting 105 evidence of two Greenland specimens. One of these birds was found by Dr. Vanhoffen, while naturalist of the expedition sent to West Green- land in 1892 by the Geographical Society of Berlin, in a small collection of birds’ skins made that year in the district of Upernavik, and the fact that several were taken that year in Iceland increases the probability that this specimen was collected in Greenland. In many of its habits more like a goose than a duck, the ruddy sheldrake associates with geese, and has a call note that is gooselike in quality. It is a shy bird, feeding in the ponds and marshes at night, and spending the day on open plains where it can guard against danger. It breeds very early, seeking retired islands in lakes in Asia Minor. There it lays in holes among the rocks or sometimes in a burrow in the ground. SHOVELLER (Spatula clypeata) Adult male — Head and neck, dark metallic green; dusky line on hind neck from head to back; upper part of back, breast, and anterior scapulars, white ; rump, and upper and under tail-coverts, black glossed with green; wing-coverts, pale blue; speculum, metallic green; tail, brown edged with white, a white patch on each side of base of tail; entire under parts, deep chestnut ; bill, biack ; iris, yellow; legs and feet, orange-red. Measurements — Length, 19 inches ; wing, 9.50 inches ; culmen, 2.80 inches; tarsus, 1.40 inches. Adult female — Head, neck, and sides, buff, streaked with dusky; chin and throat, buff; speculum, green ; back, brown, edged with 106 The Water-fowl Family buff; under parts, buff, spotted with brown; bill, brown ; base of maxilla and mandible, orange ; iris, yellow ; legs, orange. Measurements — Length, 19 inches ; wing, 8.75 inches ; culmen, 2.50 inches ; tarsus, 1.20 inches. Young male — Resembles female, but coloring is deeper ; under parts darker. Adult male when moulting resembles female. Downy young — Back of neck and upper parts, olive-brown, otherwise pale buff; yellowish spots on each side of back and rump; the bill is like that of the other ducklings, not enlarged. Fggs — Eight to twelve in number, greenish white in color, and measure 2.05 by 1.40 inches. Fflabitat — Europe, Asia, and northern portions of Africa in the Old World. In North America breeds from Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Kansas, Texas, Colorado, Arizona, and California and probably Lower California and Mexico, north to the Bering Sea coast of Alaska, Saskatchewan, Kenewatin, and probably to Fort Ander- son, and east to Ontario. Winters from Maryland, occasionally New Jersey, possibly Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Texas, Arizona, and British Columbia, south to the West Indies and Central America; also in Hawaii. Occasional in migrations on the Atlantic Coast, north to Nova Scotia and Newfoundland; and in Bermuda. In the United States the shoveller has a wide range, but is rare on the Atlantic Coast. It is most abundant through the prairie states, south into Texas and Mexico. This species undoubtedly breeds along a large part of its range. It is found nesting regularly in the fur countries, in the vicinity of the Yukon River, Lake Winnipeg, and the Barren Grounds, and commonly in Montana, Dakota, and Manitoba. The nest is close to the water on the edge of a marsh or island, concealed under grass or brush, and consists of a mere de- pression, roughly lined with grass. A nest found SHOVELLERS— MALE AND FEMALE Duck-shooting 107 by Mr. B. F. Goss at Horicon Lake, southern Wisconsin, May 24, is described as situated near the highest part of a small island, some five feet from the water on bare ground, and in com- pany with numbers of mallards. The nest con- tained ten fresh eggs. It breeds from late May to July, the time corresponding to the locality. s) There isa record of a brood of shovellers hatched in the garden of the Zodlogical Society in England in the summer of 1841. After the duties of incu- bation the bright plumage of the male is shed, and the bird assumes an attire like that of the female, but darker, not resuming his splendid dress of winter until October. During the latter part of August the shoveller is perhaps the com- monest duck of our Western states, frequenting the ponds and sloughs of the prairies. Here they are found with large numbers of other ducks, and are the tamest and most readily approached of all the flocks. They feed on various vegetable and animal substances which the peculiar, broad bill is specially adapted for sifting from the water. The flesh, while good, is not equal to that of the mallard or teal. When the vast numbers of ducks congregat- ing on the lake are disturbed, the shovellers cross the land low down, and while the flight is speedy, they are readily killed. These birds come well to decoys; but as the localities where they are most abundant are rather beyond the range of the ordi- 108 The Waterfowl Family nary duck-hunter, not many are killed in this way. Late fall and early winter finds the shoveller in the Southwestern states and Mexico, going well into the tropics. The male in his adult plumage is one of our most beautiful ducks. The combina- tion of light blue and white of the wing, with the rich brown of the breast, is particularly striking. The green head and rather large appearance cause him sometimes at a distance to be confused with the mallard, but when nearer the distinction is readily made. In Mexico the shoveller, with the gadwall and cinnamon teal, stay latest. In April, 1901, I saw ina small pool near one of the ranches in northern Mexico a flock of several hundred shovellers, the large majority of them males. They allowed close approach and continued to preen their feathers, at times uttering a low gut- tural quack. The brilliant coloring of these birds in the bright sunlight was a splendid sight. This small pond was the only water for twenty miles, and the Mexicans informed us they arrived in small relays in March, staying until May. Late in May, near Chihuahua, shovellers were numerous. At this time they were mated. A number of males, shot then, showed evidence of a beginning of change in plumage. The lagoons of the Gulf Coast of Mexico are the winter resort of great numbers of these birds, as well as the bays of California and the Pacific Coast of Mexico. This bird is common Duck-shooting 109 in Texas and Louisiana, and is found sparingly on the Atlantic Coast of the Southern states, but is rare north of North Carolina and a straggler in New England. Twoare recorded from Rye Beach, Massachusetts, in August, 1872. Four killed on the sand-bars just outside of New Haven harbor in September, 1886, were brought to the writer. The shoveller is known by a variety of names, such as spoonbill, blue-winged shoveller, red- breasted shoveller, spoon-billed teal, spoon-billed widgeon, broadbill, swaddlebill, mud_ shoveller, mesquin. PINTAIL (Dajila acuta) Adult male — Head and upper neck, brown, darkest on the crown; sides of head with metallic purple reflections; upper part of neck, black behind, lower part lighter, with faint white undula- tion; a white stripe beginning at upper edge of black portion passes down sides of neck and is continuous with the white of lower parts; back and sides waved with fine, narrow, white and dusky lines; wing-coverts, brownish gray, the last row tipped with cinnamon, forming a bar across the wing ; speculum, bronze, with copper and green reflections, with an outside black bar and white tip; under parts, pure white; upper tail-coverts, black, edged with white, and lengthened ; tail feathers, pointed, dark brown on outer side, gray on inner; the two central feath- ers black, long, and pointed, extending beyond the others; under tail-coverts, black, edged with white; iris, brown; bill, slate, black on tip; legs and feet, slate ; webs, dusky. Measurements — Length, 26 inches; wing, 10.50 inches; culmen, 2.30 inches; tarsus, 1.60 inches; tail, 7 inches. Adult female — Top of head, brown, streaked with black; rest of head, buff, streaked with dusky; upper parts, dusky, crossed with bars of buff; under parts, white, streaked with dusky; 110 The Waterfowl Family upper tail-coverts, spotted with black and white; bill, bluish gray, blackish on top; legs and feet, slate; webs, dusky. Measurements — Length, 21 inches ; wing, 9.30 inches; culmen, 1.80 inches; tarsus, 1.60 inches. This bird is easily distinguished from female ducks of other species by its long, slender neck. Young male — Similar to female, but with speculum on wing. Downy young — Top of head, back of neck and upper parts, olive- brown; a dull white stripe on each side of back, and over eye; a brown stripe through the eye from bill; under parts, grayish white. Eggs — Five to nine in number, pale grayish green and measure 2.30 by 1.55 inches. Habitat —In the Old World, Europe, breeding south to the Rhone Delta, Asia, northern Africa, China, and Japan. In North America, breeds in New Brunswick and from Minnesota, Illi- nois, Missouri, Nebraska, Montana, Wyoming, and Washington, possibly Arizona and California, north to the Bering Sea coast of Alaska, Kotzebue Sound, Point Barrow, and Fort Anderson, and probably east to Davis Strait and Hudson Bay. Winters from Virginia, rarely Pennsylvania, Ohio, Illinois, possibly Wis- consin, Kansas, Arizona, Nevada, and British Columbia, south to the West Indies and Central America; also in Hawaii. Occasional on the Atlantic Coast in migration, north to New- foundland and Labrador, in Greenland and in Bermuda. With a range as extensive as the mallards, this species is nowhere as common. We find the pintail widely dispersed in the Old World, and occurring throughout North America, inland and on the coasts. The northern regions of both continents are their breeding-grounds. In North America through the Barren Grounds to the Arctic Sea and from Great Slave Lake to Alaska, this bird nests as far south as the northern border of the United States. Nelson, observing the birds Duck-shooting th breeding on the Yukon, speaks of their habits at this time as interesting and peculiar. “The duck rises to a great height after the manner of a snipe, and setting the wings descends with a rush, causing a roaring noise which is heard at considerable distance.” The nest is placed on low, dry ground, a short distance from water, under the shelter of bushes. It is a mere de- pression, lined with down and feathers. The duck lays from six to ten eggs. On the prairies of Dakota, Montana, and Manitoba the pintail occupy the same marshes as the mallards for their nesting, but the birds do not associate. The duck is a close sitter, and loath to leave her eggs. During early incubation the male is some- times seen in the vicinity, but later leaves to moult, and during this period assumes a brown plumage not unlike the female, but darker, distin- guishable by the tail feathers and the brighter speculum of its wing. The young are hatched early in July, and able to fly in September, when fledged frequenting the larger ponds in company with numbers of other ducks. If disturbed, they are among the first birds to take flight, springing into the air, coming over the pass with a speed that makes them the easiest of birds to miss. In October we see the first evidences of the winter plumage. The males now are in full dress, with the exception of their long tail 112 The Water-fowl Family feathers, which are not yet fully grown. By the last of the month they are scattered over their fall haunts, and are seen in numbers throughout the West and South. In portions of the West, where they frequent the ponds and smaller lakes, they are much more easily killed than on larger bodies of water. The pintail arrive on the coast of North Carolina late in October, and are found in numbers through the brackish sounds. Decoys attract them occasion- ally, but never in as large numbers as the other ducks, for they are always wary and quick to suspect danger. These birds can be distin- guished afar. The white under parts of the male and their long necks mark them at once. The flight is high in lines abreast, but almost before the flock is seen they are by and out of sight. When about to decoy no bird is more graceful; they often drop from a height far out of range and circle about the stool, watching carefully for the slightest motion; finally they swing within range and plunge among the wooden ducks. After realizing the mistake, they spring up all together, and are out of shot almost before you realize the chance is gone. On the water, pintail maintain the same grace they show in flight, carrying themselves with all the ease of a swan. Many of the flocks winter much farther south than North Carolina, and Duck-shooting 11 arrive in the spring on the journey north in large numbers. The birds are seen at this time pass- ing high over the marshes, where they feed at night, often with the black duck and mallard, leaving early in the morning. The flight is like the widgeons’, but quieter, their whistling not as noticeable. They have the same habit of alarming other ducks, and spoil many chances for the hunter. The pintail resort to large open bodies of water, especially when much disturbed by hunting; but they are surface feeders and do not dive for food; grasses and various vegetable matter growing in the shallow water form the diet. The flesh is excellent, and the bird is highly esteemed for the table. When wounded, they will dive to effect escape, but prefer to skulk and hide. On the New England coast the pin- tail is rare, nor is it common on Long Island. Only a few instances of its occurrence in Con- necticut are known to the writer, and these were birds killed at dusk with black duck. This species is known by a variety of names, sprigtail, spiketail, spindletail, spreetail, pigeon- tail, and smee. WOOD DUCK (Azer sponsa) Adult male — Head with a crest reaching well down to the back, of green and violet metallic hues ; a narrow white line at the angle of the maxilla passes over its edge and reaches to the end of the I 114 The Water-fowl Family crest; another white line beginning below and behind the eye extends along the lower end of crest; cheeks and sides of neck, violet-black; crest, silky in texture of metallic greens and purples ; throat and front of neck, pure white; back, dark brown glossed with green; lower back and rump darker, grading into black on upper tail-coverts ; wing-coverts, steel-blue with black tips; scapulars, black with metallic reflections; the longer tertials tipped with a white bar; lower portion of throat and breast extending well on to the sides, chestnut, mottled in front with white; on the sides of the breast, above shoulder, is a broad black bar over which is another of white; sides and flanks, buff crossed by fine wavy black lines; feathers of the upper borders having at their ends two bars of black enclosing a white one; lower breast, pure white; on each side of rump is a patch of dark purple; under tail-coverts, dark greenish brown ; tail, black, with metallic reflections ; bill, purple, red behind the nostrils with a black spot on the culmen; nail, black ; an oblong spot of white from nostril to nail; basal outline, yellow; legs and feet, brownish yellow with dark webs; eyelids, vermilion ; iris, red, sometimes reddish brown. Measurements — Length, 19 inches; wing, 9.30 inches; tail, 4.70 inches ; tarsus, 1.50 inches; culmen, 1.40 inches. Adult female — Head, gray ; crest shorter and smaller than drake’s ; back and rump and upper tail-coverts, brown, glossed with bronze; wings similar to male’s but with wider band of white; breast, reddish brown; under parts, white ; flanks, brown spotted with white; bill, dark lead color with a black nail; legs and feet, yellowish brown; eyelids, yellow; iris, brown. Measurements — Length, 17 inches; wing, 8.30 inches; tarsus, 1.30 inches ; culmen, 1.30 inches. : Downy young — Head and upper parts, dark brown; sides of the head, with a stripe over the eye, buff; dull white spots on the shoulder and on each side of the rump. £ggs — Eight to fourteen in number, ivory-white when unsoiled, and measure 2.10 inches in length by 1.50 in breadth. Afabitat — Breeds from Florida and the Gulf states, Colorado, Nevada, and California, north to Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, possibly Labrador, Hudson Bay, Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and British Columbia. Winters chiefly in the United States, from a ee 2 Sie WES i GTi OME iT lta Mtl ile ae tay te ne OT Duck-shooting 115 New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, and Texas, south to the West Indies and Mexico, and in Oregon and California. Accidental in Europe and Bermuda. Any hunter could well repent his ruthlessness as he holds in his hand the dead wood-drake, and wish him alive and back again, a beautiful ornament to woodland waters. The stream, where it broadens into quiet water, well protected by a thick growth of alders, or some old mill-pond back in the woods, long since deserted, will miss him. Here he spent the late spring and early summer with his mate, and saw the young brood fledged. In October he brought them to the spot where young oaks line the water’s edge and hide the swamp, affording their favorite food, acorns. And now with October foliage at its height, when cold nights warned him to push farther south and take his charge, he falls, his splendid plumage blood-stained. No bird less deserved the fate. Wood duck are found in the woodland dis- tricts of the United States and Canada, north to the 5oth parallel. They arrive in New England and the northern United States early in May, and frequent the secluded streams and lakes. At first in flocks of several, they soon separate and each pair seeks a nesting-place. This is generally the hollow of a tree or broken stump, rarely a deserted crow’s nest. The aperture is thirty or forty feet from the ground and surprisingly small 116 The Water-fowl Family for the size of the bird, the eggs being some- times three or four feet from the opening. The bird flies through the woods and lights on the tree with all the speed and grace of a wild dove. - Wilson describes a nest of the summer duck found on the Tuckahoe River, New Jersey, May 18: “The tree was twenty yards from water on a declivity; in its hollow and broken top about six feet down, lying on soft decayed wood, were thir- teen eggs, covered with down. This tree had been repeatedly occupied.” In an instance the writer has noticed, a pair of wood duck for years built in a broken branch of an elm, standing on the edge of a mill-pond ina small New England town. When the young were hatched the brood regularly disappeared, the birds trusting the locality for nesting purposes, but not for rearing their young. Professor Kumlien describes a nest found in Wisconsin, in a high burr oak, in a thicket three- quarters of a mile from water. The young are carried to the ground by the old bird in her bill. The little brood frequent some wild spot where foliage hides them, or a secluded pool along a stream. They feed on insects, water larvze, or tender buds. The mother’s note is low and prolonged, resembling the sylla- bles whee-whee, and the young answer with a soft peep. The brood fly in September, and in Duck-shooting 117 the fall we look for them in spots where acorns drop into the water. On this food they quickly fatten, and the bird in some localities goes by the name of acorn duck. With the first threatenings of winter they pass on toward the south and we find them in our Gulf states, frequenting the ponds and rivers. This bird is also known as the summer duck, bridal duck, wood widgeon, and branchier in Louisiana. Gentle and readily domesticated, the wood duck deserves all possible protection; but the excellence of its flesh and demand for its feath- ers expose it to a relentless persecution, and this species is rapidly decreasing. CHARTER] LE DUCK-SHOOTING (CONTINUED) THE SEA-DUCKS (fuliguline) Near ty allied to the river-ducks in most points, a sea-duck can be distinguished always by the membranous lobe on the hind toe. Their feet and palmations are also larger, and their legs set farther back on the body, with the result that their walk is even more of a waddle. In many of their habits they closely resemble the river- ducks, but they are fond of deep water at all seasons of the year, and sometimes occur in flocks containing thousands of individuals. Except in the breeding season, few of them frequent fresh water to any extent, but gather in large beds off the coasts, flying into some bay in the morning to feed, and retiring far from shore at night. They are expert divers, often obtaining their food at great depth, sometimes seeking the bottom even in one hundred and fifty feet of water. Their bodies, however, are so heavy relatively to their wings, that most of them cannot rise from the water 118 Duck-shooting 119 except against the wind, and after they have started, the flight is usually not so graceful as that of the river-duck. They feed chiefly on shellfish and crustacea, and their flesh is rank and fishy; but some, as the red-head, canvas-back and ruddy duck, live on vegetable substances, and are highly valued by epicures. Though distributed throughout the world, the majority of the forty or more species in the family inhabit the northern hemisphere, breeding far to the north. Some species lay their eggs in large colonies on retired islands on the northern coasts, the males collecting in enormous flocks and living on the ocean some distance from the land, while the females assume all the responsi- bilities of incubation and raise the young. The nests are on the ground, often under bushes, and consist of a few twigs, grass, and leaves, mixed with the down of the parent. This down in the eider is so abundant that it has become an article of commerce, and on the coasts of Green- land, Iceland, and Norway the breeding colonies are visited regularly by the inhabitants, and the nests and many of the eggs collected. An aver- age nest will weigh about an ounce and a third, and from Greenland and Iceland nearly six thou- sand pounds of down are exported annually. These birds are carefully protected, and become so tame that they sometimes breed in the houses 120 The Water-fowl Family of the inhabitants, and will allow themselves to be lifted from their eggs without a struggle. The sea-ducks are very hardy birds, some of them spending the winter on the ocean, not very far from the Arctic circle, cold apparently not troubling them in the least, as long as food is abundant and water sufficient for their needs remains unfrozen. The sexes differ in plumage, that of the male being often very handsome. A metallic speculum on the wing is rare. In many species the males assume in summer a dull plu- mage resembling the female, as do the river-ducks, this plumage persisting for only a few weeks. There is wide variation between the different members of this family. While the scoters are black and white with brightly colored bills, the males and females differing little, the eiders, with strangely shaped bills, are black and white in the male, and brown in the female. Both of these groups are large and clumsy. Contrasting with them we find the small and graceful old squaw, with its long central tail feathers, and the little ruddy duck, its tail feathers long and stiff, and the male colored bright red. The Labrador duck, which occurred formerly on the coasts of New England and the Middle states, was a near relative of the eiders. A strange species of sea-duck living in South America is known as the steamer-duck, because Duck-shooting 121 its movements when swimming are said to resem- ble those of a side-wheel steamer. Young birds of this species can fly, but as they grow older they lose this power, and content themselves with diving and swimming. Australia possesses, as might be expected, a very peculiar sea-duck. In this species both sexes are brownish black in color, but the male is nearly twice the size of the female, and has a large wattle under the chin. It flies rarely, but is a wonderful diver, staying under water a remarkably long time. The male in the breeding season gives out a strong odor of musk. RUFOUS-CRESTED DUCK (Wetta rufina) Adult male — Head and upper neck, vinaceous rufous, the soft and bushy crest, paler; stripe on hind neck, rump, upper tail-coverts and lower parts, brownish black; back and scapulars, grayish brown; speculum, outer portion of scapulars, anterior border and under side of wing, axillars and broad space on flanks, white; primaries, whitish, the tips of all and outer webs of first five, grayish brown; tail, grayish brown; bill, bright vermilion- red, tipped with white; irides, reddish brown; legs, orange-red. Measurements — Length, 21 inches; wing, 10.25 inches; tail, 4 inches; culmen, 2 inches; tarsus, I.50 inches. Adult female — Crest smaller than adult male; top of head and stripe on hind neck, hair brown; rest of upper parts, grayish brown, darker on rump and upper tail-coverts; white scapular patch wanting, and white border to wings indistinct ; speculum, pale ashy, darker terminally and tipped with white; sides of head, neck, and abdomen, pale ashy ; rest of lower parts, brown- ish white, becoming white on under tail-coverts ; primaries, like male but slightly darker; bill, blackish tipped with pink ; irides, hazel; legs, pinkish; palmations, blackish. 122 The Water-fowl Family Measurements — Length, 20 inches; wing, 10 inches; tail, 3.75 inches; culmen, 1.90 inches; tarsus, 1.50 inches. Young male — Similar to adult female, but crest smaller and more reddish ; the border of wing distinctly white, and white scapular patch plainly indicated. Downy young— Upper parts, dull olive-gray; lower parts and scapular spots, pale yellowish gray; yellowish gray superciliary stripe; olive-gray stripes on lores, one passing above supercili- ary stripe and the other below eye to auriculars. fggs — Eight to ten, pea-green, measuring 2.20 by 1.70 inches. Habitat — Eastern hemisphere, from the Mediterranean basin to Turkestan and India, breeding irregularly north to Scotland, the Kola Peninsula, and on the Yenisei River, Siberia, to within the Arctic circle. Accidental in eastern United States. The only claim of this species to rank as an American bird is that on February 2, 1872, Mr. George A. Boardman found a young male in Ful- ton Market, New York, and this bird is believed to have been shot on Long Island Sound. It is a rather shy and solitary bird, not found in large flocks or associating much with other ducks. Not being an expert at diving it fre- quents shallow, fresh-water marshes, feeding on water-plants of various kinds. It breeds on small islands in the Rhone Delta of southern France, where Mr. W. Eagle Clarke found two nests on May 17, 1894. They were on the ground in the centre of thick and tangled masses of shrub- bery, and were reached by covered passages fully two feet long, which had been worked through the bottom of the bushes. These nests, com- posed of down, held ten and seventeen eggs; but Duck-shooting 123 the latter were doubtless laid by two females, as they differed in size and color. The males were swimming near these islands and impressed Mr. Clarke with their great beauty, their crests look- ing as if “fringed with gold.” RED-HEAD (Aythya americana) Adult male — ead and neck, rich reddish brown, glossed with purple; lower neck, chest, upper parts of back, rump, and upper and lower tail-coverts, black; remainder of back, sides, and flanks, grayish white, finely undulated with black; wing-coverts, gray; speculum, ash-gray, bordered above with black, and posteriorly with white; tail, dark brown; under parts white, growing gray toward under tail-coverts; bill, broad and fiat, rising at the base abruptly to the forehead; slate in color and crossed by a black bar near the tip; iris, orange; legs and feet, plumbous ; webs, dusky. Measurements — Length, 19.50 inches ; wing, ginches; culmen, 2.10 inches; tarsus, 1.40 inches; bill .80 inch in width. Plumage of male in post-nuptial dress similar to female. Adult female —Wead and neck, pale brown, darkest on top; chin and throat, white; cheeks, grayish brown; back and scapulars of the same color; feathers tipped with light gray ; wing-coverts, light gray; speculum, ash-gray ; lower back, dark brown; chest and sides, gray-brown; feathers of abdomen broadly edged with whitish ; bill, slate with a black nail; legs and feet, slate; webs, dusky. Measurements —Length, 19 inches; wing, 9 inches; culmen, 2 inches; tarsus, 1.35 inches. Downy young—Top of head and upper parts, olive with a yellow spot on the sides of body and rump and on the borders of wings; sides of head, neck, and lower parts, buff. Eggs — Eight to twenty in number, grayish white, and measure 2.40 by 1.70 inches. 124 The Water-fowl Family Habitat —Breeds from Michigan, possibly Indiana, Minnesota, Nebraska, Missouri, possibly Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and California, and reported as breeding in Maine, north to the fur countries west of Hudson Bay, Saskatchewan, Alberta, and British Columbia. Winters from Maryland, rarely north to Massachusetts, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, Wyoming, Arizona, Nevada, and British Columbia, south to the West Indies, Mexico, and Lower California. In the migrations, found occasionally on the Atlantic, north to the coast of Labrador. The red-head is an associate of the canvas-back in many localities and a close second in popular- ity. The same persecution along the eastern coast has decimated the flocks and driven the birds away, yet small numbers are still seen in their old haunts, while the canvas-back are prac- tically gone. The lakes and watercourses of our Western states were the former resorts of countless myr- iads of these birds, and even now in Minnesota, Dakota, and Montana the red-head is still abun- dant, breeding in the prairie sloughs, and north into Manitoba on the shores and islands of wild marshy lakes. Here red-heads breed in colonies by themselves or in the company of mallards. The nest is somewhat elevated, constructed of grass and loose material, carefully canopied over, frequently built up from the bottom in shallow water among clumps of rushes. The eggs are eight to twenty in number, and with them are occa- sionally seen those of the ruddy duck. Incuba- tion is begun in early June, and the duck is left Duck-shooting 125 in charge alone, her mate disappearing to moult and change his dress, going into a brown plumage for the summer. The marshes of central North America through the fur countries afford breed- ing-grounds for numbers of red-head. The young are fledged in late August, and many are killed near their nesting-places, as they are not wild and are readily approached. In North Dakota a hunter can easily tire of shooting, but destruction of this sort now is fortunately prevented by well-enforced game laws. If other Western states protected their wild fowl against the ravages of the pot- hunter and the wanton sportsman in the same efficient way, much would be accomplished in preserving our wild duck. In the fall of 1894, near Sanborn, North Dakota, warm weather had persisted until late September, when the first frost came. A few days later, about October 1, I noticed the first flocks of flight red- head. These passed over high up, for the most part far out of range. The few we killed were all old males with well-marked traces of the summer plumage. This was most apparent in the brown feathers of the head and breast. By the middle of October they appear on the marshes of the West, and are common from the Great Lake states to the Rocky Mountains, and along the Missouri and Mississippi valleys to the states bordering on the Gulf of Mexico, 126 The Water-fowl Family Numbers remain in Illinois, lowa,and Missouri until driven farther south by cold weather. In November and December they are found in Texas and in the bays and lagoons along the Mexican coast. The red-head is numerous in California and Colorado; abundant in the valley of the Salt Lake, passing into Mexico, where it winters on the interior lakes and along the Pacific Coast. These birds reach the Chesapeake early in Novem- ber, crossing the interior and not following to any extent the Atlantic coast-line. They winter off the coast of North Carolina, remaining until March, some passing as far south as Florida and the Bahamas. On the Chesapeake they feed on the vallisneria, and under these circumstances the flesh equals that of the canvas-back. The red- head has many of the habits of the canvas-back, and is killed in the same way, —from blinds on the points along the line of flight, batteries off- shore, or brush blinds staked out in shallow bays on their feeding-grounds. In Currituck and Pamlico sounds the regular method of shooting is from batteries and brush blinds. The brush is set out and left unused for some time until the birds become accustomed; then, when the opportunity offers, at the first streak of dawn the skiff is pushed out of sight in the brush tops, well sur- rounded by stool. The first small flocks of six or eight soon appear, usually taking some certain Duck-shooting 127 course. Once within sight of the decoys, one or two ducks turn in on set wings; another instant and the flock hover in front. When startled, they often spring together, and the gunner of ex- perience waits for this chance. Red-head come to decoys with a grace few ducks possess, if only they decide to come; but many times in full sight of the stool they turn neither to right nor left, keeping the same aggravating course, just out of range. These birds hail to a red flag almost as well as the broadbill, but at the present time of more gunners than ducks, tolling is seldom used. On Long Island the red-head is found in small flocks. The eastern end of Great South Bay and of Shinnecock Bay for the past two years have been the resort of these birds. North of Long Island, along the coast, this species is rare. In Connecticut the red-head I have seen have usually been in flocks of the large broadbill, and several birds in my possession were shot under these cir- cumstances. In March, 1900, five red-head were killed on Lake Saltonstall, near New Haven. In the spring of the year these birds are killed in large numbers in certain places along the Missis- sipp1 and its tributaries, when the woods are flooded. The red-head is a high, fast flyer, a gentle whistling marking the flight. Occasionally a low quack is heard, but generally the bird is 128 The Water-fowl Family silent. They dive and skulk with a skill that saves many a wounded bird. The similarity in size and marking of the red-head to the canvas- back has made it possible to substitute it for the latter. The bill always distinguishes the birds, being broad and flat in the red-head and long and thin in the canvas-back. This species is also known as the raft-duck and pochard. CANVAS-BACK (Aythya vallisneria) Adult male — Top of head and feathers at the base of bill, black; rest of head and neck, brownish red; upper part of back, chest, and upper and under tail-coverts, black ; wing-coverts, gray, ver- miculated with white; speculum, gray; tips vermiculated with white, and inner feathers edged externally with black; rest of plumage, white, finely undulated on the back with black; bill, narrow, widening slightly toward the end and longer than the head, black in color; tail, black; iris, red; legs and feet, slate. Measurements — Length, 20 inches ; wing, 9.10 inches ; culmen, 2.40 inches; tarsus, 1.70 inches. Adult female — Head, neck, and upper part of back, brown, rest of back, darker; tips of the feathers undulated with white; under parts, white; speculum, gray tipped with white, inner feathers edged with black on outer web; tail, dark brown; iris, brown; bill, black; legs and feet, slate. Measurements — Length, 20 inches; wing, 9 inches; culmen, 2.25 inches ; tarsus, 1.50 inches. Downy young— Upper parts, brown, with buff spots on sides of chest, lower back, and rump; space around eye, sides of head and neck, and lower parts, buffy white. Eggs — Six to ten in number; pale gray green in color, and measure 2.50 by 1.80 inches. Habitat — Breeds from Minnesota, Nebraska, Colorado, Nevada, Oregon, and British Columbia, north to Fort Anderson and Fort Duck-shooting 129 Yukon. Winters in Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, for- merly abundantly, now rarely; occasionally south to Florida and straggling to the West Indies; and from western New York rarely, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, Illinois, Colorado, Arizona, and British Columbia, south to California, Mexico, Central America, and the Gulf Coast. In the migrations occurs on the Atlantic Coast rarely, north to New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, and in Bermuda. The story of this duck on our eastern coast is one of days that are past. In the halcyon times when Chesapeake Bay and the canvas-back duck were words inseparable, the winter home was here. The large flocks arrived about the middle of No- vember, tired and thin from their long flight; they gathered on the bars offshore, rising only when disturbed, feeding on the beds of tape-grass or vallisneria (not the wild celery, as popularly sup- posed). On this diet the flesh attained its highest degree of excellence. In December the birds had fattened and become more active, passing up and down the bay to and from their feeding-grounds in morning and evening flights, keeping well off- shore in fair weather, leading over the points when driven by wind or storm. The more famous locations were the Narrows, Taylor’s and Abbey islands on the western shore, Miller’s Island, and Carroll’s Island. When driven from the bay by constant shooting, they resorted to the larger rivers. Blinds and decoys in all possible loca- tions, batteries and sink-boxes offshore, awaited K b | 130 The Waterfowl Family them. They were drifted on when gathered on their feeding-grounds. At night bedded on the resting-places, the rafts of ducks were shot into by means of large-bore guns or cannon as they huddled together in front of the gunner’s light. Occasionally they were taken in gill nets offshore. Eagerly sought for and greedily hunted, killed by every device known to man, this bird, the noblest of all our water-fowl, has been driven from its old haunts; and the Chesapeake Bay knows it no more. The few flocks occasionally seen in the vicinity now bear sad testimony of the wanton destruction of the past. Farther south, along the coast, canvas-back still winter in some numbers, but are seldom killed in any quantity, and then only in heavy weather, or when ice holes afford a limited feeding-ground. A few are found on the James River. In 1893, when scarcely a canvas- back was killed on the Chesapeake, there were large flocks on the James. They often bedded in the coves across the river from Westover, in fair weather keeping well out in the centre, flying up and down morning and evening. Ina heavy snowstorm on Christmas day we shot them from brush blinds on the south shore. There are few more stirring sights than flocks of canvas-back leading up within range of the blind, flying in wedge-shaped lines high in air; as they come ¢ Duck-shooting 131 nearer, the white back and red neck mark them. They see the stool, and the flock wheels; two or three leaders turn toward the decoys, and the others follow. When alarmed, they rise high up, and their powerful flight soon takes them beyond danger. If wounded, the bird is quick to dive, and swims a long distance under water, showing the top of the head or bill, and then only for an instant. In Currituck and Pamlico sounds the canvas- back are rarely shot from the points of marsh, but almost entirely from batteries and bush blinds far offshore. Nowadays a bag of ten or fifteen ducks represents a good day’s shooting. Formerly, all through the winter and well into the spring, the canvas-back remained in the waters of Virginia and North Carolina, leaving for the north in April. The breeding range is from Oregon and the northern portions of the western United States to the northern limits of the fur countries on the interior bodies of water. It has been found nest- ing in the mountainous portions of northern Oregon and California, Montana, and Dakota, in the Devil’s Lake region, on the Anderson and Fraser rivers, and in numbers on the Yukon. Arriving at its breeding-ground late in May, by the middle of June incubation is well started. The nest is made from rushes and grass built up from shallow water, and is situated in clumps of 132 The Waterfowl Family rushes out in the sloughs, its top being canopied over with the same material. The eggs are de- posited before construction is complete, and are from seven to ten in number. Occasionally the eggs of the red-head and ruddy duck are found in the same nest. Soon after incubation has been begun the male leaves the duck and, seeking the seclusion of larger neighboring bodies of water, moults, losing the characteristic attire of spring, the plumage at this time being a dull brown. The ducklings are hatched in July, and quickly become expert in hiding and diving, soon leaving the more protected resorts of their nesting-places. When full-fledged they frequent more open water and the deeper, larger lakes. Here they are joined by other families, and the flocks form. With the cold nights and first frosts of early fall they push along, and by late September the advance flight is in evidence along the northern boundaries of Montana and Dakota. These birds are nearly all females and young. It is eatly October before we see the flocks of old birds. The migration from the North is over the watercourses of the interior, until near the boun- daries of the United States; here some birds strike the Pacific shore, a large body pass over the prairie to Texas and Mexico, wintering on the larger inland bodies of water and along both coasts to Central America. Another smaller -Duck-shooting 133 flight is over the Great Lakes to the Chesapeake and south. This is the course of those birds wintering on the Atlantic Coast. North of the Chesapeake, on the Atlantic, the bird has always been scarce. It is now occasion- ally killed on Long Island by battery gunners. A few are sometimes taken in Barnstable County, southeastern Massachusetts. Dr. Woods has obtained them on the Connecticut River. Two adult males were brought to me, killed on Lake Saltonstall, near New Haven, December 25, 1901. Throughout the West canvas-back have been driven from the thickly populated states; on the rivers and lakes of Illinois they no longer abound. In the prairie states, and in Colorado and Cali- fornia, however, they are still killed in consider- able numbers. They are not superior for the table to many of the commoner ducks. In the spring of 1gor1, late in April, I was sur- prised to see several flocks of canvas-back near Tampico, Mexico. They were wilder than the other ducks, but allowed us to approach surpris- ingly near. Throughout the interior of Mexico this bird is common, but does not frequent the smaller sloughs with the thousands of other duck, choosing the small lakes more inaccessible from the ranches. | The canvas-back is known ‘by the names white- back, bull-neck, and in New Orleans, cheval. 134 The Water-fowl Family SCAUP DUCK (Aythya marila) Adult male—Wead, neck, front of back and breast, black; head and neck with metallic green reflections; lower part of back and rump and under tail-coverts, black; middle of back, scap- ulars, and anal region, white with black undulations; wing- coverts, black, finely barred with white ; speculum, white, bounded in front by black line; tail, blackish brown; belly and sides, white; bill, blue-gray; nail, black; iris, yellow; legs and feet, plumbeous. Male in summer —Similar to female, but head blacker and back whiter. Measurements — Length, 19 inches; wing, 8.40 inches; culmen, 2 inches; tarsus, 1.40 inches. Adult female — Forehead and sides of head at base of bill, white ; rest of head, neck, and breast, brown; upper parts, dusky brown ; back and scapulars, undulated slightly with white ; wings, brown, with white speculum; belly, white; under tail-coverts and anal region, dark brown; iris, bill, and feet, as in the male. Measurements — Length, 19 inches; wing, 8.40 inches; culmen, 1.75 inches; tarsus, 1.40 inches. Downy young — Similar to the Lesser Scaup. £ggs — Eight to twelve in number, pale olive-gray, and measure 2.55 by 1.70 inches. flabitat— Northern parts of northern hemisphere, breeding far north, and, in the eastern hemisphere, wintering south to the Mediterranean, Japan, China, and Formosa. In North Amer- ica, breeds from the Magdalen Islands, Manitoba, Assiniboia, Alberta, and British Columbia, possibly Michigan, Minnesota, Iowa, and Oregon, north to Labrador, Hudson Bay, probably Fort Anderson, Kotzebue Sound, and the Yukon Delta, Alaska, and the Aleutian Islands. Winters from Maine to Florida and the Bahamas on the Atlantic Coast; on the Gulf Coast ; and from Colorado, Arizona, and Nevada, south to Guatemala; and on the Pacific Coast on the Aleutian Islands, and from British Columbia to California. Rare in the migrations in Newfound- land and Nova Scotia. Duck-shooting 135 While the greater broadbill, or scaup, occurs throughout North America, it is especially a bird of the eastern coast, Chesapeake Bay marking the common limit of its southern range. The close relationship between the greater and the lesser broadbill has led to considerable confusion as regards the distribution of species. South of the Chesapeake Bay and inland it is replaced by the lesser variety. The summer home of the broadbill is far in the North, along the farther shores of Hudson Bay, Greenland, and Alaska. The nest has been taken as far south as the Magdalen Islands. It is roughly constructed of grass and drift placed in a mere depression on the ground. The eggs are covered well with down and cared for entirely by the duck, for during incubation the drakes associate by themselves. Late October and early November mark their arrival on the New England and Long Island coasts; the first small flocks are swelled in size by newcomers, and the late fall finds them well estab- lished in winter quarters. They soon accustom themselves to surroundings and become wild and hard of approach, in calm weather gathering in vast flocks far out in the bay, passing to and from their feeding-grounds in a characteristic undulat- ing line,—if near land or disturbed by boats, keeping high in air. Under these circumstances batteries anchored out in the bay along their line 136 The Water-fowl Family of flight bring the smaller flocks in range. Some- times they drop to the stool when high overhead, coming up to the decoys gracefully and tumbling over themselves to settle among the wooden con- gregation. If wounded, they dive almost at the flash, and swim a long distance under water, appearing at the surface for an instant with just the head showing. When stormy weather protects them from con- stant gunning, they gather in vast flocks seeking more sheltered water. The first clear day may offer the opportunity. Be early. As the duck- boat is quietly pushed out of the harbor to the outer islands the birds seem in thousands, rising in front and on all sides, leaving the water with a loud splashing; then the whir of wings, and they are gone. Now the first streak of light shows the black shadow of a flock close by. The first impulse is to shoot, the next to reach the blind. It seems an age before the decoys are set and everything is ready. Presently a flock leading by the decoys calls for attention. It is still a little early, and the stools hardly show; now four birds hovering in front call forth the first two shots. The silence is broken, flock after flock of frightened, bewildered birds leave the water, circling, then passing on. Soon the wavy lines far off mark the departed; but your patience is not long taxed, a small flock return and presently another, follow- Duck-shooting 137 ing each other in the same precise line. The shooting is constant, and the gun grows hot; but pick up your birds quickly, and don’t waste time, for the flight is thick and fast, but short, and broadbill do not make mistakes often. This bird is highly prized by gunners of the eastern coast, and when vegetable matter and the various grasses found on the flats and bars com- prise its diet, the flesh is excellent. Often the food consists of barnacles and crustacea, which impart a slightly fishy flavor to the flesh. This species is also known as greater scaup duck and bluebill. LESSER SCAUP DUCK (Aythya affinis) Adult male — Head, neck, and front of body, black, with metallic purple reflections on head; back and scapulars, white, barred with narrow black lines; wing-coverts, dusky, mottled with white; speculum, white; rump and upper tail-coverts, black; breast and abdomen, white; sides, white, marked with dusky; tail, black; bill, slate; nail, black; legs and feet, slate; webs, black ; iris, yellow. Measurements — Length, 16 inches; wing, 8 inches; tail, 3 inches; tarsus, 1.30 inches; culmen, 1.70 inches. Adult female — Space at base of bill, white; rest of head and neck, brown; upper back and breast, umber-brown; wings, dark brown; speculum, white; under parts, white; rump and upper tail-coverts, dark brown; bill and feet, slate; webs, dusky; iris, yellow. Measurements — Similar to male. Downy young — Upper parts, dark brown, with buff spots on side of back and rump; lower parts, buff; forehead and side of head, 138 The Waterfowl Family brownish buff; narrow brown ring across neck in front connect- ing with brown of upper parts. Eggs — Eight to twelve in number, pale gray buff tinged with olive, and measure 2.30 by 1.50 inches. Habitat — Breeds from Nova Scotia, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Illi- nois, Minnesota, North Dakota, Assiniboia, and Alberta, and probably New York, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and Wyo- ming, north to Hudson Strait, Fort Anderson, and the Yukon Valley, Alaska, and probably in Greenland. Winters from New Jersey, rarely Massachusetts, Lake Erie, Louisiana, Texas, Colo- rado, Arizona, Nevada, and British Columbia, south to the West Indies, Guatemala, and Lower California. Not known to breed in New England, New Brunswick, Quebec, and Ontario. Acci- dental in Europe. Occurs in Bermuda. For a long time this species was not differenti- ated from the preceding, and considerable con- fusion resulted. It can readily be distinguished by its smaller size, the bill and feet being notice- ably smaller and especially the breadth of the nail of the bill. The head has a distinctly purple sheen instead of the green of the greater broad- bill. We find the lesser broadbill well dispersed throughout the United States; in fall and winter occurring on inland lakes and rivers, where it often goes by the name of pond or creek broad- bill. It continues south through Mexico to Gua- temala, and is found along the South Atlantic Coast below the Chesapeake, common in Florida and the Gulf of Mexico. North of the Chesa- peake this bird is more rare. Most of the instances of its occurrence in New England that have come under the writer’s observation Duck-shooting 139 have been in the early fall, and then generally in the company of the greater scaup. The lesser broadbill breeds along the Yukon and Anderson rivers and through the Arctic regions north of Hudson Bay. The nest has been taken as far south as Dakota. Marshes and swamps of the fresh-water lakes close to the coast are the favorite resorts in the North. The nest is constructed in a rude manner of grass and rushes well lined with down. Early July is the breeding- time. According to MacFarlane, the male bird is found with its mate well along in the period of incubation. Early in October the first flocks appear within our boundary, and by November they are common throughout the West and along the southern coast. The lesser broadbill possesses all the habits of its near relative, but is found more often on the shallow bays and in smaller bodies of water. They come well to decoys and are occa- sionally baited by grain scattered on their feeding- ground. If these ducks have fed undisturbed for a short time under such circumstances, they return so persistently to the spot that a large proportion of the flock are killed. Curiosity, a trait associated with disaster, is not wanting in both varieties of broadbill. If the situation favors, a red flag is gently waved from a place of conceal- ment. The flock at once notices it, the birds become restless, soon one or two swim near, 140 The Waterfowl Family others follow, and if the tolling is carefully man- aged they are brought within close range. On Currituck Sound in 1895, I saw several hundred broadbill killed in the vicinity, all of this species. They frequent the larger rivers near the coast. While hunting on the James River one day in December from a brush blind in one of the bays, I noticed a small flock of broadbill late in the afternoon leading up a creek near by. They were soon followed by another, and continually until dark, little bunches of these birds coming from the same direction in the same line, disappeared through the woods, evidently going to some pond farther in for the night. The lesser broadbill winters in Florida and along the Gulf Coast, and in places where protection is af- forded they become very tame, in some instances staying near the hotels and winter resorts. Their extensive distribution gives them a num- ber of different names, and this species is variously known as little broadbill, lesser scaup duck, little bluebill, little black-head, river broadbill, raft- duck. | RING-NECKED DUCK (Aythya collaris) Adult male — Head, neck, breast, upper parts, and under tail-coverts, black, with a sheen of reddish purple on the head, which has a slight crest ; a narrow chestnut collar around the middle of the neck; a small triangular white spot on the chin; wings, dark brown with a green gloss; speculum, gray; under parts, white, Duck-shooting 141 the flanks and side waved with fine black lines; bill, black, crossed by a bar of slate; legs and feet, slate; webs, dusky ; iris, yellow. Measurements — Length, 17.50 inches; wing, 8 inches; tail, 3.40 inches ; culmen, 1.90 inches; tarsus, 1.25 inches. Adult female — Top of head and back of neck, dark brown; sides of head, grayish white spotted with dusky; forehead, throat, and neck in front, yellowish white ; sides of neck, light brown; back and wings, dark brown; speculum, gray, edged with white; lower back and rump, black; upper breast, sides, and flanks, yellowish brown; lower breast and belly, white; bill, iris, and feet, as in the male. Measurements — Length, 16 to 18 inches; wing, 8 inches; culmen, 1.25 to 2 inches; tarsus, 1.30 inches. Male in breeding season goes into dull plumage resembling female. Downy young — Top of head, neck, and upper parts, dark grayish brown, rest of head, neck, and lower parts, pale buff; a spot of light buff in the centre of the back and on each side of the back and rump. £ggs—Nine to twelve in number, grayish or buff in color, and measure 2.10 by 1.65 inches. Hlabitat — Breeds from Illinois, lowa, North Dakota, Utah, and Ore- gon, north to the Mackenzie River and probably Fort Anderson, and reported in summer at St. Michael, Alaska, and on the Aleutian Islands. Said to have bred in Maine. Winters from New Jersey, Illinois, Nevada, British Columbia, and the Aleu- tians, south to the West Indies, Guatemala, and Lower Califor- nia. Occurs in migration north on the Atlantic to Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, and Quebec, and it has been recorded from Eng- land and Bermuda. ; The ring-neck as compared with other ducks is nowhere a common variety. It is most abundant through the Western states and Mississippi Valley, and is found sparingly along the Pacific Coast. On the Atlantic Coast it is taken most frequently 142 The Waterfowl Family in the Southern states. Occasionally there has been quite a spring flight through Illinois and the adjacent states, numbers finding their way to Chicago markets. In Maine and Massachusetts the ring-neck is sometimes taken. In southern New England it is rare; and the writer knows of but two specimens killed in Connecticut: one was an adult male shot in the winter of 1886 in a small pond near New Haven, the other a young male killed on Lake Saltonstall, December, 1goo. South it is more abundant, and on the large sounds off Virginia and North Carolina a few are shot, although the inland rivers and ponds seem to be their favorite abode. In Georgia, Florida, and along the Gulf of Mexico the ring-neck is found in small flocks. The breeding-ground is in the far North, but the bird has been found on our northern border, in Dakota and other of the Western states, and in Maine, in the vicinity of Calais, by Mr. George Boardman. Here in the summer of 1884 he took a nest with eleven eggs. It was placed among the reeds and thick grass on the banks of the St. Croix River, and was constructed of grass without down. The birds appear within the United States early in November, and while going far south, a few stay through the winter in the Northern states until the last ice holes freeze. They are seen in small flocks of from six to twelve, keeping pretty Duck-shooting 143 much to themselves; but sometimes they associate with the lesser broadbill, whose habits they much resemble. The ring-neck is a strong flyer, rising easily and quickly from the water, the flight hav- ing the wavy appearance of the broadbill. They come readily to decoys, but are a difficult mark, and when wounded readily escape by diving, swimming well under water, showing just the head when coming to the surface. A low, guttural note is heard at times, but the birds are usually quiet. The flesh is excellent. Other names for this species are tufted duck, ring-bill bastard, ring-bill black-head, ring-neck scaup, ring-bill shaffer. AMERICAN GOLDEN-EYE (Clangula clangula americana) Adult male — Head, occipital crest, and upper part of neck, glossy green with sometimes violet reflections ; a large, oval, white spot close to the base of bill on each side; lower part of neck, upper part of back, greater wing-coverts, and under parts, pure white ; rest of upper parts, long scapulars, and some secondaries, black ; tail, ashy ; bill, black; feet, yellowish ; webs, dusky ; iris, yellow. Measurements — Length, 20 inches; wing, 8.85 inches; tail, 4.50 inches; tarsus, 1.50 inches; culmen, 1.60 inches. Adult female — Head and upper part of neck, brown; a slight oc- cipital crest; a narrow collar on neck of white, streaked with gray; back, dark brown; feathers on upper back, edged with gray; those of upper tail-coverts, tipped with pale brown; white on wings not so extensive as those on male; tips of greater wing-coverts, black, forming a bar across the white; a band of bluish gray across upper part of breast; under parts, white; thighs, dusky ; tail, brown; bill, dull yellow, varied with brown; iris, light yellow; legs and feet, yellowish ; webs, dusky. 144 The Waterfowl Family Measurements — Length, 17 inches; wing, 8 inches; tail, 4.50 inches ; culmen, 1.30 inches; tarsus, 1.40 inches; height of bill from point of angle to nearest cutting edge less than the dis- tance between the farthest edge of the nostril and nearest feathers at base of bill; in distinction from female Barrow’s golden-eye. Young male — Similar to female, but larger, and head not crested. Downy young — Upper parts, including the upper half of the head, sides, and thighs, deep, sooty brown, lighter on the jugulum. Four pair of grayish white spots, situated one on the posterior border of each wing, one on each side of the back, one on each side of the rump, one on each flank; chin and throat, white; remaining lower parts, grayish white. £ggs — Ten to seventeen in number, bright pea-green in color, measure 2.40 by 1.70 inches. ffabitat — Breeds from Maine, New York, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, probably Colorado, Alberta, and British Columbia, north to Newfoundland, Labrador, Hudson Bay, the Mackenzie Delta, Yukon Valley, and Cook Inlet, Alaska. Winters from New Brunswick, Maine, New York, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Minnesota, Nebraska, Texas, Utah, Nevada, British Columbia, and the Aleutian Islands, south to the West Indies, Mexico, and California. Occurs in Bermuda. We associate this sprightly duck with cold weather. The smallest ice holes, when all the bays and lakes are frozen, give it a chance for a liveli- hood. The golden-eye remains fat and contented under these circumstances, when other members of the duck family quickly show the results of starvation rations. This bird has a wide acquaint- ance; in summer the Eskimo, in winter the Florida Indian and the Mexican, with all varieties of gunners in between. The American golden- eye is common on the lakes and streams of the Duck-shooting 145 Rocky Mountains, the Pacific Coast, throughout the interior, and along the Atlantic. The breeding range is from the northern United States to the Arctic sea. Small streams and lakes are their favorite resorts; here they select a hollow tree at a comfortable distance from the nearest water and raise their brood. The female undertakes their entire charge and teaches them the golden-eye tricks. In the sum- mer of 1895, while travelling through the Cascade Range in British Columbia, we found nearly every small lake had its brood of golden-eye. It was early in August, and the birds were not fledged. The flocks were surprisingly large, in some instances consisting of twenty or more young ducks, and with them one old bird. When disturbed, the duck at once flew to the farther end of the pond, directing the course of the young ones by a guttural note, which I have ‘never at other times heard from the golden-eye. They breed commonly as far south as northern New England, often frequenting the same lakes and streams as the American merganser. The golden-eye are in no hurry to leave their northern home, and we hardly see them on the coast before late October. They come in small flocks, keeping pretty much to themselves, and frequent the shallow, sandy bays, feeding on the flats and bars, often going up the rivers to spend L 146 The Water-fowl Family the day; always wary and suspicious, remaining in open places, and seldom trusting themselves in range of land. These birds in the fall do not often come to decoys. When the harbors are frozen, and the current or tide leaves a little open water, the opportunity is afforded. There is no colder shooting. A small, white ice-boat is a convenient contrivance for this purpose. It is rigged on a sled and pulled out to the edge of the ice. The ducks are there and loath to leave: They begin to return almost before the few decoys are set and you have finished warming your fingers. There are few sounds more attrac- tive than their whistling wings, heard and not seen, in the cold gray of dawn, —so close overhead, you feel the birds must be in sight even in the dim light. All is ready; soon you see a flock high up, coming with speed. The flight is un- mistakable, and the white breasts of the birds noticeable. They circle and plunge into the decoys, but are up again and off almost before the shot.