The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1905-12-15
NO SPORT
/. like DUCK SHOOTING
The Swamp Hunter More En-
thusiastic Than He Of the
Field and Wood.
CHICKEN HUNTING TAME
Chilly Winds and Torrential Rains Are
Laughed at by the Nimrod in
Quest Of the Festive
Mallard.
CHICKEN HUNTING TAME

OF all bird shooting, by far the most
keenly exciting is duck hunting. Up
land shooting frequently may call for
more art; but there is no other bird,
not even the grouse, that can bring a
hunters heart into his mouth as does
q mallard or a teal when it comes
cleaving It's way through the air with
q burst of speed SO amazing that shoot
ing at it is like shooting at u winged
express
Whoever wants to know the problem
that confronts the duck hunter need
only imagine himself watching for a
railroad train to flash suddenly past
ht9n at fifty miles an hour, MlkiilAGs Re
must pick out and hit a mark oh it
about as big as a mans head in the
brief moment of its passing.
That would be difficult enough, even
though the shooter is warned by the
noise of the train and knows just where
to look for it The duck gives no warn
ing of it's approach. Except when it
wants to make a noise it is as silent a
creature as there is in all the world
as silent as a snake, as wise as a fox,
and as keen of hearing as a deer. 1t
may appear from any quarter, and at
fifty miles an hour it is i'm and out of
sight within the one moment.
1t is this that makes duck shooting
one of the finest forms of hunting. The
luck has far more chances than the
a The most silent hunter that ever
was moves through the wilderness like
an elephant compared with the abso-
lutte silence of the wild ducks motions.
The mere rustic of a blade of wild rice
or a bunch of wild celery as the boat
glides past it may startle all the ducks
in the vicinity and send them away in
click Of the a1nmer in cooking a gun
may spoil the shooting in a hole where
the birds "lie up" A momentary flash
of sunlight on paddle or oar may do the
xame.
Great Skill Demanded.
Thus the duck hunter has to become
q perfect miracle of skill. There is he
himself, fifty times bigger than a duck
There is his boat, bigger than himself.
1t is as if a m~astodon and a whale We're
TO try to creep silently and unseen on
a man who is watching every point of
the horizon with keen suspicion.
The mans qualities of skill and sa-
gacity are called into play in every one
of the many forms of duck hunting,
from he western shooting in wheat
fields near sloughs to the simplest form
of shooting from anchored batteries as
practiced on the Atlantic coast; but in
none are the conditions more interest
ting and eSacting than in the form
known as s~napshooting, which is done
by a man who sits in the bow of a canoe
with his gun, while his mate paddles
silently through waterways. The shoot
er must be cad to fire instantly, and
his duck appear most suddenly and
without warning.
Snapshooting is done in all parts of
North America. 1t can be carried on
equally we'll in inland streams and in
h marshy salt water regions; but it's
finest degree is reached in wild rice
country where waterways wind through
thick woods and drowned lands.
There the 6nckS NOT OnlV lie hid6en
till the last desperate moment, but they
have barely risen before they have
flashed away again behind the dense
cover, leaving only the hooking thun-
der of their wings in the disappointed
hunters ears unless he is as quick as
they. and can shoot almost without
1ooking-and shoot to hit.
A beauty of s~napshooting is that the
man who does the padding enjoys some
of the best fun of the hunt equally
with the man who shoots. Tho man
who can paddle his mate on ducks
steadily and continually, giving him a.
fair shot each time, may we'll assert
that he is a paddler of parts; for his
muscles and skill must be perfectly at
tuned, and one must be as constant and
reliable as the other.
He must push the canoe so slowly
that it hardly has way enough to steer,
sAnd yet his wrist must be SO deft thai
he can twist the BOAT here and there
INSTANTLY, and all without making a
sound.
A splash of the paddle blade, a touch
of the implement against the side of
the canoe, a scrape of it along the
Of the wilderness to brighten all the
ducks in the place and send them away
in long, black lines of flight to drop
again in a less uncanny place many
miles away.
A Silent Hunting.
Chod I'm soft r,occocipc <Lo< +lo,o
ma be no scraping of feet along the
bottom at a critical moment; clad in
garments to initiate the e grasses
of the water side; he gunner in the
bow braced ready for a steady shot,
with his shells between his feet and
his gun held in position; the paddler
sitting straight and alert in the stern;
80 the ~snapshooters steal along with
al ripple to whisper at the bow
of the graceful boat and never a drop
of water permitted to tinkle from the
broad blade that urges it on.
Where the black shadows OF the tall
trees made midnight reflections on the
CLASSY water, the glides, turning
snake twists in its furtive hunting,
: pointing into every hidden cove, creep
ing close to every hiding place of reeds
and bushes, passing near every log
where duck may nave been preening
themselves to leave their tell-tale
feathers behind them.
So softly does it go that the bead
eyed mink running along a log at the
waters edge. most alert OF the wild
creatures though he be, does not know
its approach till it has passed him and
gets into his line of sight. So gently
does it loa that a young family Of
grebes, swift as they are to dive, swims
placidly and unafraid till the bow pokes
fits sleek nose arnong them. The very
water snake itself, making his beautiful
undulating way along with his sinister
head upreared above the surface,
swims unsuspectingly until the canoe
actually runs on top of him, when he
splashes his way into the crevices of
The shore in headlong panic.
In Marrow Places.
Once through the rice the slough
narrows and presently the canoe,
which has been pointed straight at
what seems like a solid bank. shoots
accurately into a tiny opening Of creek,
SO narrow that a boat with oars could
not find room in it. SO shoal that only
Ii