THE exciting nature of the
winter shooting on one of our large Highland lochs, if well frequented by
water fowl, can hardly be conceived by a stranger to the sport. It, in fact,
partakes so completely of the nature of deerstalking, that a man who is an
adept at the one would be sure, with a little practice, to be equally so at
the other. I should have been astonished to find this amusement so little
followed by gentlemen, had I not sometimes witnessed the bungling manner in
which they set about it: it is, indeed, as rare to find a gentleman who
knows anything of this sport as a rustic who has not a pretty good
smattering of it. The reason is obvious. The squire, who may be a tolerable
shot, is all eager anxiety until he can show off his right and left upon the
devoted fowl ; while the clod, having only his rusty single barrel to depend
upon, and knowing that if the birds should rise, his chance is very
considerably lessened, uses all the brains of which he is master in order to
get the sitting shot ; and knowing also from experience, that the nearer he
gets to his game the better his chance, spares no trouble to come to close
quarters. He will crawl for a hundred yards like a serpent, although he
should be wet through, reckless of his trouble and discomfort if he succeed
in his shot.
I will now suppose the squire
by the loch-side on a fine winter morning, dressed perhaps in a flaring
green or black velveteen, with a Newfoundland retriever of the same sable
hue. He sees a flock of fowl well pitched on the shore, which most likely
have seen both him and his dog, and are quite upon their guard. He looks
round for a few bushes to screen him when near the birds ; and then with a
sort of half-crouching attitude, admirably imitated by his canine friend,
advances upon his game. Unless the place is particularly adapted for a shot,
the flock have probably seen him appearing and re-appearing several times,
and whenever he is sufficiently near to alarm them, fly up together to his
no small chagrin. But should he by any chance get near enough for a shot,
his dog, not being thoroughly trained, will most likely either show himself,
or begin whimpering when his master prepares to shoot, or, in short, do
something which may spoil the sport; and even supposing the better
alternative, that he should have no dog at all, and be within shot of his
game, he will, in all probability, either poke his head over a bush when
going to fire, or make a rustling when putting his gun through it, and so
lose the sitting shot.
Now for the few hints I have to offer.
It may be thought that none were wanting, after the subject of wild-fowl
shooting has been so well and fully discussed by Colonel Hawker; but I have
never seen any suggestions to assist the beginner how to proceed in the
winter shooting on our large Highland lochs ; and many a man may have it in
his power to enjoy the recreation in this way, who has neither opportunity
nor inclination to follow it in all its glory on the coast with a stanchion
gun and punt.
The man who engages in this sport must
be of an athletic frame and hardy habits : he must not mind getting
thoroughly wet, nor think of rheumatism while standing or sitting in clothes
well soaked, perhaps for an hour at a time, watching fowl. As to waterproof
boots, they are totally out of the question : the common diker's boots would
so impede your walking, and also be such a hinderance when crawling upon
ducks or running upon divers, as considerably to lessen your chance ; and
the India-rubber boots would, in no time, become so perforated with briers
and whin as to be of little more service than a worsted stocking. The most
suitable dress is a light brown duffle shooting jacket and waistcoat, as
near the shade of the ground and trees in the winter season as possible,
your great object being to avoid the quick sight of the birds; shoes well
studded with nails, like a deer-stalker's, to prevent slipping, and a drab
coloured waterproof cap. Should the weather be very cold, I sometimes put on
two pairs of worsted stockings, but never attempt any protection from the
wet. If snow is on the ground, wear a white linen cover to your shooting
jacket, and another to your cap.
A gun suitable for this sport is
indispensable. It certainly ought to be a double-barrel, and as large as you
can readily manage ; it must fit you to a nicety, and carry from two to
three ounces of No. 3 or 4 shot, (I prefer the latter,) both very strong and
regularly distributed. Its elevation must be most true, if anything
over-elevated. As to length of barrel, calibre, &c., every man will, of
course, suit his own fancy, and give his directions accordingly. Should he
not be au fait at this, by explaining the sort of gun he wants to any
of the first-rate makers, he need not doubt their giving him satisfaction,
and none more so than William Moore. I never use any shot larger than No. 4,
except for hoopers, [Wild-geese, bernacle, brent-geese, &c., seldom pitch
upon the Highland lochs; the former only for a short time to rest. Last
winter (1841) some flocks of wild-geese, the common grey lag, appeared on
Loch Lomond during the first storm. They remained about a week, and when
seen, were always feeding on the shores. Three of them my brother killed. I
never knew this to occur before; for although wild geese have occasionally
pitched for a short time, they always choose the deep inaccessible places of
the loch, and, after resting for a few hours, took their departure without
attempting to feed. I went to the loch shortly after the geese had left it,
but the thaw unfortunately began the next day ; and of the five days I
remained, it rained nearly three : I, however, bagged thirty-eight head of
wild-fowl, mallards, golden-eyes, dun-birds, wigeon tufted and scaup-ducks -
my charge never exceeding 11 oz. of shot. It was a curious fact that there
were fewer hoopers last winter than in many of far less severity. Scarcely
any came to Loch Lomond at all, and I did not see one, though I looked for
them in all their most likely haunts. During the severe winter of 1837-8,
not one wild-goose of any description was seen, although there were numbers
of the common wild-swan, and a few of the black species, one of which was
shot ; so much for the uncertain movements of wild-fowl.]
(when, of course, I would sacrifice my chance at
other birds,) as a fair shot at a small bird like a teal might be missed
with larger ; and a man should not go alarming the whole shore, firing
random shots at flocks of fowl nearly out of reach on the water.
Next in importance to the gun is a proper retriever. [My
first attempts at shooting were in pursuit of wild-fowl when quite a boy,
and I still consider it superior to any other sport. In these early days,
however, I had no idea to what perfection a retriever might be trained; if
the dog took the water well, and was close mouthed, I expected no more. As I
was always obliged to lead him by my side, he often spoiled my best chances,
either by showing himself, or hampering me when crawling over difficult
ground. I was at last so disgusted with these encumbrances, that I generally
dispensed with their services, and trusted to my own resources for
recovering the killed and wounded. The consequence was, that the greater
proportion of the latter always escaped, and unless the wind was favourable,
not a few of the former were drifted away. On one occasion I was foolish
enough to swim 100 yards into the loch in the middle of winter after a
golden-eye, and had some difficulty in regaining the laud. I had watched it
for some time, and at last succeeded in getting to the nearest point on the
shore. The golden-eye, however, was diving a long shot off, as these shy
birds not unfrequently do : without once considering that the wind was
blowing strong from the shore, I fired, and the bird dropped dead. To my
great chagrin, it was blown rapidly out into the rough water. What was to be
done ? Had it been able to make the slightest effort to escape I could have
allowed it; but there it lay, still as a stone. So, throwing
off my shooting-jacket
and shoes, I plunged in, waded up to the neck, and struck out for my prey.
By the time I reached the bird, it had floated fully 100 yards; but getting
its leg between my teeth, I wheeled about for the land. My difficulties now
began, for the waves were very high and dashed right into my face. Several
times during my slow progress I determined to leave the golden-eye to its
fate, and as often braced myself up again, unwilling to have so cold a bath
for nothing. At last I neared the shore, got into calm water, and, after
sounding once or twice, struck ground, and reached terra firma with my
prize, the leg of which I had nearly bitten through during my exertions. It
was an intensely cold day about the end of December, with frequent
snow-showers ; and had the golden-eye not been the most valued of the diving
race, I should never have made such a fool of myself. I arrived at home
quite benumbed, determining no more to act the part of a retriever.
Another stormy
mid-winter day, a farmer sent to let us know that a flock of wild-swans had
appeared off the shore; my brother and I instantly started with our
duck-guns. When we had reconnoitred with our glasses, from a rising ground,
we saw that the flock were resting some hundred yards from the land, but had
little doubt, from the high wind, that they would soon seek its shelter. We
accordingly chose different, stations, and crawling to them with the utmost
caution, waited patiently for upwards of an hour. At last the swans, by
imperceptible degrees, and much turning and wheeling, neared the shore,
opposite my brother ; but the water being shallow, they began to feed, as
soon as their long necks could sound the bottom. He was thus forced to rush
down to the edge, and take the distant shot. One lay badly wounded : had the
wind been blowing towards the shore, the swan was so disabled that it could
not have made head against it ; but as it blew sideways, the creature
managed to paddle itself out into the waves, every now and then uttering its
wild piping cry. There was no boat nearer than a mile; we however set off at
full speed, and with a shock-headed urchin at the helm, launched into the
deep. The wind was blowing a perfect gale, the waves lashing over, wetting
us to the skin, and every time we changed our course, we were in danger of
being swamped. We had almost given up hope, especially as the white foam of
the bursting waves was so exactly like the object of our search as to
prevent our distinguishing it at any distance, when the "gilly"
at the helm called out, "I hear him!" All eyes
were strained in every direction, and the poor swan was at last seen rising
over the billows like the spirit of the tempest. There was much difficulty,
and some danger, in getting it safe on board, and in all probability we
would never have perceived it, had it not betrayed itself by
its dying song. My retriever would have recovered both these birds in five
minutes, and there would have been no risk of his spoiling the shot
beforehand.]
The Newfoundland is not quite the thing: first, his black
colour is against him-brown is much to be preferred: then, I should wish my
dog occasionally to assist me in this inland shooting, by beating rushes or
thick cover up creeks, where you may often plant yourself in an open
situation for a shot, and your dog put up the fowl, which are almost certain
to fly down past you. If you accustomed a Newfoundland to this, he might,
from his strength and vivacity, learn the trick of breaking away when you
did not wish him. The best and most efficient kind of dog for this work is a
cross between a water-dog and large terrier;-the terrier gives nose, and the
water-dog coolness and steadiness. I should say, that before you can procure
one which upon trial may prove worth the great trouble of thoroughly
training, you may have to destroy half a dozen. You should begin your
training when the dog is very young ; and, if you find he is not
turning out as you could wish, seal his fate at once. The dog you want must
be mute as a badger, and cunning as a fox: he must be of a most docile and
biddable disposition-the generality of this breed are so : they are also
slow and heavy in their movements, and phlegmatic in their temper-great
requisites ; but when fowl are to be secured, you will find no want either
of will or activity, on land or water. The accompanying wood-cut may serve
to show the sort of dog I mean, being a likeness of the best I ever saw. He
never gives a whimper, if ever so keen, and obeys every signal I make with
the hand. He will watch my motions at a distance, when crawling after
wild-fowl, ready to rush forward the moment I have fired ; and in no one
instance has he spoiled my shot. I may mention a proof of his sagacity.
Having a couple of long shots across a pretty broad stream, I stopped a
mallard with each barrel, but both were only wounded : I sent him across for
the birds ; he first attempted to bring them both, but one always struggled
out of his mouth; he then laid down one, intending to bring the other; but
whenever he attempted to cross to me, the bird left fluttered into the
water; he immediately returned again, laid down the first on the shore, and
recovered the other ; the first now fluttered away, but he instantly secured
it, and standing over them both, seemed to cogitate for a moment ; then,
although on any other occasion he never ruffles a feather,
deliberately killed one, brought over the other, and then returned for the
dead bird.
The only other essential to the sportsman is a glass ;
one of the small pocket telescopes will answer best, as it is of great
importance to be able to set it with one hand while you hold your gun with
the other, and the distance of a mile is all you want to command.
Having now equipped our wild-fowl shooter, we will again
bring him to the shore. His first object should be to see his game without
being seen himself, even if they are at too great a distance to show signs
of alarm. To effect this he must creep cautiously forward to the first point
that will command a view of the shore for some distance ; then, taking out
his glass, he must reconnoitre it by inches, noticing every tuft of grass or
stone, to which wild-fowl asleep often bear so close a resemblance that,
except to a very quick eye, assisted by a glass, the difference is not
perceptible. If the loch be well frequented, he will most likely first
discover a flock of divers, but must not be in a hurry to pocket his glass,
until he has thoroughly inspected the shore, in case some more desirable
fowl may be feeding or asleep upon it. I will suppose that he sees some
objects that may be wild-fowl. Let him then immediately direct his
glass to the very margin of the loch, to see if anything is moving there ;
should he find it so, he may conclude that it is a flock of either ducks,
widgeon, or teal ; those first perceived resting on the shore, and the
others feeding at the water's edge, of course not nearly so conspicuous.
[Duck-shooting on rivers and streams is generally unsatisfactory, there are
so many turnings and windings which prevent you from seeing the fowl until
they are close at hand, also so many tiny bays and creeks, where they
conceal themselves beyond the possibility of detection until the whirr of
their wings and the croak of the mallard betray their hiding-place. Unless
the river be large and broad, even the most expert wild-fowl shooter must
expect few heavy sitting shots, and content himself with the greater number
being distant flying ones.]
If there is no motion at the margin of the loch, he must
keep his glass fixed, and narrowly watch for some time, when, if what
arrested his attention be wild-fowl asleep, they will, in all probability,
betray themselves by raising a head or flapping a wing.
He must now take one or two large marks, that he will be
sure to know again, as close to the birds as possible; and also another,
about two or three hundred yards, immediately above, further inland. Having
done this, let him take a very wide circle and come round upon his inland
mark. He must now walk as if treading upon glass : the least rustle of a
bough, or crack of a piece of rotten wood under his feet, may spoil all,
especially if the weather be calm. Having got to about one hundred yards
from where he supposes the birds to be, he will tell his retriever to lie
down ; the dog, if well trained, will at once do so, and never move. His
master will then crawl forward, until he gets the advantage of a bush or
tuft of reeds, and then raise his head by inches to look through it for his
other marks. Having seen them, he has got an idea where the birds are, and
will, with the utmost caution, endeavour to catch sight of them. I will
suppose him fortunate enough to do so, and that they are perfectly
unconscious of his near approach. He must lower his head in the same
cautious manner, and look for some refuge at a fair distance from the birds,
through which he may fire the deadly sitting shot. After crawling
serpent-like to this, he will again raise his head by hair-breadths, and,
peeping through the bush or tuft, select the greatest number of birds in
line ; then drawing back a little, in order that his gun may be just clear
of the bush for the second barrel, after having fired the first through it,
will take sure aim at his selected victims. Should he unfortunately not find
an opening to fire through, the only other alternative is by almost
imperceptible degrees to raise his gun to the right of the bush, and close
to it ; but in doing this the birds are much more likely to see him and take
wing. Never fire over the bush, as you are almost certain to be
perceived whenever you raise your head : more good shots are lost to an
experienced hand by a rapid jerk, not keeping a sufficient watch for
stragglers, and over-anxiety to fire, than by any other way. Having
succeeded in getting the sitting shot, the fowl, especially if they have not
seen from whence it comes, will rise perpendicularly in the air, and you are
not unlikely to have a chance of knocking down a couple more with your
second barrel ; but if they rise wide, you must select the finest old
mallard among them, or whatever suits your fancy. Directly upon hearing the
report, your retriever will rush to your assistance, and having secured your
cripples, you will reload, and taking out your glass, reconnoitre again; for
though ducks, widgeon, &c., would fly out upon the loch at the report of
your gun, yet the diver tribe, if there are only one or two together, are
perhaps more likely to be under water than above when you fire ; but more of
them anon.
Another invariable rule in crawling upon ducks is always,
if possible, to get to leeward of them; [If you have also a bright sun at
your back, and in their eyes, your advantage is great; but should the sun
and wind favour opposite directions, let the nature of the ground decide
your advance.
I was last winter shooting wild-fowl with a gamekeeper
who firmly held the common notion of their keen noses. We saw a flock of
about twenty pitched upon a long point, and no possibility of approaching
them except directly to windward. " Now, Sir," says the keeper, " if you'll
stalk these ducks so as to get a good shot, I'll never care for their noses
again!" They had the full benefit of the wind as it blew pretty strong, but
there was some soft snow on the ground, which I knew would prevent their
hearing ; so I took him at his word, killed three with my first barrel, and,
had they not been intercepted by the trees and bushes, would have knocked
down at least one more with my second. The keeper has said ever since that
their noses are not worth a straw :-my decided advice, however, is never to
stalk wild-fowl to windward, if it
can 6e avoided : for should the snow be at all
crisp with frost, or if there are many twigs and bushes to crawl through,
their noses become acute enough ! ! !]
for although I am firmly of opinion that they do not wind
you like deer, as some suppose, yet their hearing is most acute, I have seen
instances of this that I could hardly otherwise have credited. One day I got
within about sixty yards of three ducks asleep upon the shore ; the wind was
blowing very strong, direct from me to them, a thick hedge forming my
ambuscade. The ground was quite bare beyond this hedge, so I was obliged to
take the distant shot through it : in making the attempt, I rustled one of
the twigs-up went the three heads to the full stretch, but when I had
remained quiet for about five minutes, they again placed their bills under
their wings ; upon a second trial, the slight noise was unfortunately
repeated : again the birds raised their heads ; but this time they were much
longer upon the stretch, and seemed more uneasy. Nothing now remained but to
try again; my utmost caution, however, was unavailing, the birds rose like
rockets. I never hesitate concealing myself to windward of the spot, where I
expect ducks to pitch, feeling confident that, unless I move, they will not
find me out. I have often had them swimming within twenty-five yards of me,
when I was waiting for three or four in line, the wind blowing direct from
me to them, without perceiving by any signs their consciousness of an
enemy's vicinity. [Perhaps the sportsman may ask what it signifies whether
wild-fowl are aware of your approach by hearing or winding? My answer is,
that although it is of little consequence when crawling upon ducks, yet when
lying concealed, expecting them to pitch, it is a considerable advantage to
know that you will not be detected by their sense of smell; otherwise the
best refuge for a shot must often be abandoned for a much worse.]
When the weather is very hard, and ducks are driven to
the springy drains, a simple way of getting fair shots, but seldom practised,
is, to make your man keep close to the drain, and take your own place
fifteen yards from it, and about forty in advance of him. The ducks will
then rise nearly opposite to you. To walk along the drain is not a good
plan, as they will generally rise either out of distance or very long shots
: and, if you keep a little way off, they may not rise at all. When the loch
is low, the sportsman may often get a capital shot at ducks, the first warm
sunny days in March, as they collect on the grassy places at the margin, to
feed upon the insects brought into life by the genial heat.
But to return to our wild-fowl shooter, whom we left
glass in hand looking out for divers. He sees a couple plying their vocation
fifteen or twenty yards from the shore, about half a quarter of a mile from
where he stands. He selects his vantage ground as near as possible for a
last look before commencing his attack. Having gained this, he makes his dog
lie down, and peeps cautiously until he sees the birds-waits till they both
dive together, then rushing forward whilst they are under water, again
conceals himself, expecting their reappearance. The great difficulty is
always to keep in view the exact spot where the birds come up : once lose
sight of it, your progress is stopped, and, in recovering your advantage,
the birds are almost certain to see you and fly. When within one race of the
divers, cock both barrels, and as soon as they together
disappear, rush to the nearest point on the shore for a shot. If
the day be calm, the rising bubbles will show where they are; you can then
clap your gun to your shoulder, ready to fire. Always, in such cases, shoot
on wing and be sure to fire well forward: should a diver only be winged, it
is useless to tire your retriever in pursuit ; but if he is at all struck
about the legs also, a good dog should be able to secure him.
So much for the small morillon. The golden-eye is a still
more artful bird, and requires more caution. If, without seeing an enemy, he
is at all alarmed while diving near the shore, he will probably swim out to
a considerable distance; reconnoitring all the time, and making a noise
something like a single note of the hurdy-gurdy. You may perhaps expect his
return, and wait for him ; but although he may remain about the same place,
making these calls, and apparently careless, he is all the time very
suspicious ; and I only once or twice, in my whole experience, knew him
return to the spot where he was first discovered. Should he get sight of
you, there is no hope, even if he does not take wing, which he most likely
will. The little morillon may return, if you think him worth waiting for ;
but he is so hard and coarse on the table, that it would be paying him too
great a compliment. The golden-eye, on the contrary, is a great delicacy - a
sufficient proof, I think, were there no other, that morillons are not young
golden-eyes, as many suppose. This supposition, I have little doubt, arises
from the colour of the female golden-eye being pretty much like that of the
morillon. The shape, however, is different, and the size of the female
golden-eye nearly equal to that of the male. I have shot them, right and
left, when diving together, the female being the most wary of the two. The
morillon may be in the same flock, as different kinds of divers often are ;
but there is not half the caution required to get a shot at him, and, when
compared, he is much rounder in shape and one-third smaller in size. It may
be said, "and why should not this be the young of the same species ?"
I answer, " that the young males of all the duck tribe that breed in this
country, from the mallard to the teal, gain their bright feathers the first
moulting, after which the young males are at least equal in size to the
females : but my chief reason I have already given, if the morillon is the
young bird, why should he reverse the usual order of things, and be less
tender and delicate than his parents ?"
When several are diving together; you must get as near as
possible without alarming them ; and, selecting a couple who dive at the
same moment, hoot away the others, who will be far out of reach before their
companions come up. They will probably never miss them until they have taken
two or three dives, thus giving you an opportunity of getting the shot ; of
which you would have had a much worse chance while they were together.
In recommending this, be it observed, I am supposing the
ground of difficult access when favourable, even a novice should be able to
get within a run of any number of fowl, without being seen by the most wary
of the flock, and can then make his selection. For my own part, I hardly
ever adopt this plan, but where the ground is bare and open, an unpractised
wild-fowl shooter would stand no chance otherwise.
When the flock is large, it always puzzles a beginner to
ascertain the length of time they are under water, in order to know what
time he may safely allow for his last run,
which in such a case must generally be a long one. The fowl are continually
coming up and disappearing again, which confuses him, and
unless he knows the depth o f the water, the only way to find out
how long they are under, is to watch the most marked or detached of the
flock, and then choose his devoted pair. If the water is
very shallow, those below are sure to perceive the flurry made by
their friends at the top, as soon as you commence your last run, and
instantly join them in their retreat. In such cases it is always best to try
for a distant sitting shot, from the nearest refuge you can safely reach,
among as many as you can get in line. But by attempting this, there is
always a risk of losing the chance altogether, and it should never be
resorted to except under such circumstances, or with
dun-birds, who keep more close together, and thus present a
better opportunity for a heavy sitting shot than any other divers.
Of all wild-fowl, a flock of dun-birds is the most
agreeable to the sportsman's eye. They are the most stupid of all the diver
race : I have even seen them, after having been driven from their
feeding-ground, return in the face of the shooter, who had only lain down
without any covering or concealment whatever : they have begun diving again
within thirty yards, and of course given him a capital shot. I never wish
for assistance in manoeuvring any other kind of water-fowl, but these may be
herded like sheep; and, if feeding on one side of a bay, you have only to
conceal yourself at the other, and send your man round to where they are
diving. They will most likely come straight towards you, and, again
beginning to feed, will probably every five or ten minutes draw all together
with their heads up. Now is your time to fire, if you have the good fortune
to be within shot ; but should you prefer two birds in the hand to waiting
for their knitting together, you may have a capital right and left when they
come up from diving : I, however, should be loath to lose the opportunity of
the sitting shot.
There are many other divers that frequent our lochs, such
as the tufted and scaup-ducks, &c., but they may all be approached in the
same way as the golden-eye and morillon; none are so shy as the former.
[Last winter I had a good opportunity of contrasting the artful and
suspicious nature of the golden-eye with that of the more confiding morillon.
When shooting wild-fowl on the banks of the Teith, I discovered,
with my glass, a golden-eye feeding at the top of a long creek,
and a couple of morillons at the bottom where it joined the river. As they
were at some distance from each other, it was impossible to keep an eye upon
both. So, knowing that if the golden-eye got a glimpse of me, he would not
stay to take another, I was obliged to trust to the simplicity of the more
social morillons. I got within a fair distance for my last run, when the
morillons, who had caught a transient glance at my manoeuvres, paid the
compliment of giving me their undivided attention ; but, as they did not
leave the ground, nor show any other sign of alarm, I was congratulating
myself that all was safe. The moment, however, that the golden-eye came up
from the dive, he perceived that the morillons were resting on their
oars, and instantly was on his guard, It was most curious to see the conning
and tact of the creature, which l had every advantage for observing, as 1
was well concealed. He kept cruising about, with outstretched neck, peering
first on one side of the creek, then on the other, always selecting the best
points of sight to halt, and make his observations. Nor would lie recommence
his repast until the morillons had set him the example. And, had I not known
his usual precaution of making the first dire or two, after being scared,
very short, he might even then have escaped.] Those that feed on fish, such as the goosander, speckled diver, shel-drake, &c., require rather different tactics. To get a shot at any of
these, you must watch which way they are feeding, and, taking your station
somewhat in advance, wait until they pass you : they will not keep you long,
as they are very rapid in their movements. Take care that the water is
pretty deep where you place yourself, or they may dive at too great a
distance from the shore for a shot ; but, after all, they are good for
nothing but to be stuffed for a collection.
The only other bird that requires a separate notice is
the mighty hooper, monarch of the flood. To get a shot at the wild-swan is
the great object of the sportsman's desire : he is not naturally so shy a
bird as the wild-duck,
but still his long neck, and acute sense of hearing,
render great caution necessary. If, as often happens, he is feeding along
the shore, you have only to plant yourself in an advantageous situation a
good way ahead, and it will not be long before he makes his appearance ; but
if lie is feeding at the mouth of some brook or stream, you must crawl in
the same way as when after wild-ducks. Should you get within a distant shot
of a hooper, and are not close to the water-side, instead of firing from
where you are, rush down to the edge of the loch, and before the swan can
take wing, you will have gained ten yards upon him. When the thaw
begins after very hard weather, they are almost sure to be feeding at the
mouths of any mountain burns that run into the loch. Should you see hoopers
feeding greedily, nearly out of range of your gun, in place of taking the
random shot, try to prevent their being disturbed, and return at dusk of
evening or grey of morning, when they will most likely have come pretty
close to the shore, especially if any little rivulets run into the loch near: this rule applies to most waterfowl. If a swan be alarmed by an enemy on
shore, his wont is not to fly, but to swim majestically away.
Widgeon and teal are approached in the same way as
wild-ducks, only the widgeon are less shy than the ducks, and the teal than
the widgeon. You may sometimes, in calm weather, see widgeon in a large
flock purring and whistling a couple of hundred yards from the shore;
you need give yourself no
trouble about them, as they will probably not leave their resting-place
until they feed in the evening. Always try to get a heavy shot at widgeon,
which, with a little patience, you may generally accomplish. Teal are
usually in small flocks ; so that, if you can get two or three in line, you
had better fire, for fear of losing the sitting chance altogether. I once
killed .six at a shot ; but, except when they collect in small ponds and
drains about the loch-side, so good an opportunity seldom occurs. I have
occasionally seen shovellers on our lochs ; but only in the hardest winters.
They resemble wild-ducks in their habits : the only one I ever shot was
among a flock of ducks.Good
sport need never be expected when the loch is large, as many of the fowl
swim up creeks, and among the morasses in shore, where it is difficult even
to get a flying shot ; while those that remain on the margin of the loch are
so concealed by the bushes, &c., that it is quite impossible to see them.
The lower the loch the better ; at all events, the shore should be clearly
defined. At such times wild-fowl have always favourite haunts for feeding
and resting.
There is a common saving, that
specimens of all the different kinds of water-fowl which frequent the loch
in winter, present themselves during the harvest-moon. This is erroneous ;
for even the morillon, earliest of the diver tribe, seldom appears so soon,
and the tufted and scaup-ducks, dun-birds, &c., never until the winter sets
in. Multitudes of wild-ducks do come down from the moors, during harvest, to
feed upon the corn-fields on the banks of some of the larger lochs, and,
when the stubble becomes bare, return to the moor-lochs until these are
frozen over, which again drives them back. This is the only foundation for
the vulgar error. A day or two is generally sufficient to freeze over these
little lochs, and their occupants then come down to the larger ones, the
greater parts of which remain open long after the storm has set in. Now is
the time for the wild-fowl shooter : if the ground is covered with snow, so
much the better. The fowl are then in groups close to the shore, pinched
with cold and hunger, seeking shelter and a scanty morsel. If at the same
time it is windy, with drifts of snow, no weather can be more propitious for
clucks, widgeon, teal, and all wild-fowl that feed at the margin. When the
snow is falling thick and fast, a capital sitting shot may sometimes be
obtained, though the ground be so bare as to offer no concealment. In most
cases, however, it is best not to take the cover off your gun till the
shower moderates a little, as snow is so apt to penetrate, and make it miss
fire.
If the weather be open, the higher the
wind the better, as it drives to the shore whatever fowl are upon the loch,
although until the frost sets in they will be comparatively few.
The most auspicious weather for divers
is one of those frosty days, accompanied by mist, when the loch is perfectly
calm, and looks like a mirror dimmed by one's breath. You may then hear
their plash in the water -sometimes even before they can be seen-and, if
care is taken to make no rustling among the bushes, when they are above
water, you have every prospect of a good chance. The smoothness of the
surface and the mist makes each bird appear twice as large as it is, which
enables you much more easily to catch sight of them coming up from the dive.
The mist is also an excellent shroud if the ground is open, without a bush
or tuft of reeds to hide behind, when the birds are above water.
The wild-fowl shooter must never
forget that true proof of his skill consists in obtaining sitting
shots, and stopping a number of fowl at one discharge ; and, unless with
divers, must not think of a flying right and left.
As an instance of what may be done by
patience and caution, I may conclude this paper by mentioning, that the
gamekeeper of a relation, having seen a flock of ducks pitched upon the
shore, and no way of getting near them but over a bare field, crawled flat
upon his face a distance of three hundred yards, pushing his gun before him,
not daring even to raise his head, and at last got within such fair
distance, that he stopped four with his first barrel, and one with the
other, securing them all. His gun was only a small fowling-piece. I should
add that he had been trained to deer-stalking, under his father, from a boy. |