October 30th.—A light, a grim man, and a voice in the room at 4 a.m. awaken me; I am up first; breakfast; more duck, eggs, meat, mighty cakes, milk; to the gun-house, already hung with ducks, and then tramp to the “blinds” with Smith, who talked of the Ingines and wild sports in far Minnesota. As morning breaks, very red and lovely, dark visions and long streaky clouds appear, skimming along from bay or river. The men in the blinds, which are square enclosures of reeds about 4½ feet high, call out “Bay,” “River,” according to the direction from which the ducks are coming. Down we go in blinds; they come; puffs of smoke, a bang, a volley; one bird falls with flop; another by degrees drops, and at last smites the sea; there are five down; in go the dogs. “Who shot that?” “I did.” “Who killed this?” “That’s Tucker’s!” “A good shot.” ‘I don’t know how I missed mine.” Same thing again. The ducks fly prodigious heights—out of all range one would think. It is exciting when the cloud does rise at first. Day voted very bad. Thence I move homeward; talk with Mr. Slater till the trap is ready; and at twelve or so, drive over to Mr. McDonald; find Lamy and Swan there; miserable shed of two-roomed shanty in a marsh; rough deal presses; white-washed walls; fiddler in attendance; dinner of ducks and steak; whisky, and thence proceed to a blind or marsh, amid wooden decoys; but there is no use; no birds; high tide flooding everything; examined McDonald’s stud; knocked to pieces trotting on hard ground. Rowed back to house with Mr. Pennington, and returned to the mansion; all the party had but poor sport; but every one had killed something. Drew lots for bed, and won this time; Lamy, however, would not sleep double, and reposed on a hard sofa in the parlour; indications favourable for ducks. It was curious, in the early morning, to hear the incessant booming of duck-guns, along all the creeks and coves of the indented bays and saltwater marshes; and one could tell when they were fired at decoys, or were directed against birds in the air; heard a salute fired at Baltimore very distinctly. Lamy and Mr. McDonald met in their voyage up the Nile, to kill ennui and spend money.
