Although the lake is but a poor fishing ground, it is a splendid place
for ducks and geese. About a mile from the house, on the river side
of the lake, is a long, narrow point, which stretches almost across
to the opposite bank, and it is there that the best shooting is to be
found. As it belongs to their father the boys have taken possession of
it, and on the highest and dryest part, erected a rough board cabin
which goes by the name of “Our Shooting-box.” It looks dreary enough in
summer, with only a rusty stove and a few empty cupboards in it by way
of furniture; but when the “melancholy days” are come, and the leaves
begin to fall, and the autumnal winds to whistle dismally through
the branches of the forest--when the trumpet-like notes of the first
returning flock of brant are heard, then the shooting-box opens wide
its hospitable door, and receives beneath the shelter of its roof a
company of merry youngsters, who yearly congregate here to enjoy the
splendid shooting the lake affords. Then the bare floor is covered
with comfortable rugs, and there are camp chairs and lounges enough
to accommodate all the young sportsmen who can crawl into the cabin.
Then the cupboards are abundantly supplied with dishes, knives, forks
and other table furniture, and everything in the way of provisions
that hungry boys can ask for; and in the loft, which extends over half
the room, are always to be found a barrel or two of hickory nuts,
butternuts and pecans. And what sport the boys enjoy here in these
days! A person who has once taken part in it, will willingly go a
hundred miles to have more of it. The shooting is all done over decoys.
These decoys are pieces of light wood shaped like ducks and geese,
and painted to resemble them. And that they do resemble the natural
bird very closely, is proved by the fact that more than one hunter has
emptied his double-barrel into a flock of decoys and never discovered
his mistake, until the disgusted owner of the wooden birds jumped up
from behind his blind and demanded to know what he was about.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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