"Strange to say, that morning we saw no ducks on the stream. Apparently they had flown very early in the morning in a southerly direction, and we decided to do the same. We planned not to seek the company of other birds going our way. For during the season of migration, wherever flocks of pigeons, grouse and other birds go, their enemies such as owls, hawks and eagles go after them. In order to avoid danger and such shocking sights as we had seen before, we flew to the east and after going eastwards a whole day, we rested in the village of Sikkim. The next day we flew south for half a day and again eastward. That sort of round-about journey took a long time, but it saved us no end of trouble. Once we were overtaken by a storm, and were blown into a lake country, and there I saw an amazing sight. I was on a tree-top, when below me I discerned a lot of domesticated ducks floating on the water with a fish in each one's mouth. But none of them swallowed his morsel. I had never seen ducks resist the temptation to eat fish before, so I called the swifts to behold the sight. They clung to the barks of several trees and looked at the ducks, but they could hardly believe their eyes. What was the matter with them? Pretty soon a boat hove in sight, poled by two men, flat-faced and yellow. On seeing them the ducks paddled to the boat as fast as they could go. Reaching it, they hopped up, and then--can you believe it?--they dropped their capture into a large fish basket, and jumped down into the lake to fish for some more, and that went on for at least two hours. Apparently those Tibeto-Burman fishermen never cast nets. They tied a string tightly, almost to the choking point, around their ducks' necks, and then brought them to the lake to catch fish. Whatever the latter caught, they brought to their human masters. However, when their basket became full, they undid the strings that were around the ducks' necks who then plunged into the lake, and gorged themselves on fish.