86 SCENERY AND SEASONS
mosquitoes, dragon-flies, and gnats the first shot to be fired by the occupant of the farthest butt is awaited. The sun beats powerfully down. All is still and drowsy, save for the drone of the flies and the occasional “quack, quack!” of the ducks paddling unsuspiciously on the lake.
At last a distant shot is heard, and a suppressed roar, as of waves on a far-off shore, breaks out. Then from the direction of the shot a black cloud arises and advances rapidly. The roar moment by moment increases, and in a few seconds the whole sky is covered with a whirling, swishing, whizzing flight of ducks—thousands and thousands of them, flashing past from right to left, from left to right, backwards and forwards, forwards and backwards, in bewildering multitudes.
After a quarter of an hour or so of rapid shoot- ing a lull occurs. In the distance, flights of duck circle high in the air, but none come near. A lazy interval ensues. The sun beats down with unex- pected force. Perspiration pours down head and neck, Dragon-flies, blue and red, large and small, with gauze-like wings and brilliant bodies, float swiftly but noiselessly among the reeds. ‘The purring of the crickets, the occasional twitter of
