It need only be added that the eider is said to be the swiftest of all ducks, flying at the rate of nearly a hundred miles an hour.
Of the remaining rarer ducks are the ruddy-sheld, the long-tailed, and harlequin ducks. The ruddy-sheld is an exquisitely coloured duck with rufous plumage; and the harlequin, with its numerous bright colours, may be said to be the handsomest and rarest of all. The long-tailed duck is sometimes called the sea-pheasant, and is not unfrequently found on our coasts in rough weather.
Duck decoying is one of the oldest methods of taking winter wild-fowl. It has been practised for centuries, and perhaps nowhere with greater success than in our own country. Owing to its insular position Britain has always been a great resort of fowl, and in times past it was visited by myriad of swans, geese, and ducks, many of which annually remained to breed. The marsh and fenlands of the south-eastern counties constituted tracts alike favourable for food and nesting, and for the most part the birds were undisturbed. But as the plough invaded their haunts the marsh was converted into corn-land, and from that time the breeding sea-fowl have steadily declined in numbers. The oldest decoys were merely adapted sheets of water, but when these, by virtue of having been drained, were no longer available, artificial ones were constructed in likely situations and planted round with timber to secure their privacy. Many of the decoys were farmed by fowlers, and the more valuable afforded a considerable source of revenue to the owners. Speaking of the dwellers in Croyland, Camden says that: "Their greatest gain is from the fish and wild ducks that they catch, which are so many, that in August they can drive at once into a single net three thousand ducks." He further adds that they call the pools in which the ducks are obtained their corn-fields, though there is no corn grown for miles round. For the privilege of taking fish and fowl three hundred pounds sterling were originally paid to the Abbots of Croyland, and afterwards to the king. Although the "driving of ducks" was allowed, a code of Fen laws decreed that neither nets nor engines should be used against the fowl "commonly called moulted ducks" before midsummer day yearly. In the early days of the decoys enormous quantities of fowl were taken in them. As many as 31,200 duck, teal, and widgeon were captured near Wainfleet in a single season, and 2,646 mallards in two days. In these early times it is said that a flock of wild ducks has been observed passing over the Fens in a continuous stream for eight hours together.
Lincolnshire is pre-eminently the land of wild-fowl, and at one of the smallest decoys—that at Ashby—where the records have been carefully kept, it is seen that from 1833 to 1868, 48,664 ducks were captured in the pipes; 4,287 being the best take for any one year. Both now and in times past the ducks have always been sent to the London markets, and constitute an important food supply. The waters of the decoys are, of course, always fresh, and, being mostly frequented by the surface-feeding ducks, the great majority of the birds taken are held in estimation at table. It is true that widgeon and other of the diving ducks are sometimes driven to the decoys by rough sea weather, but these are too wary to enter the pipes, nor do they stay after the storms have abated. The ducks which constitute the commercial supply are mostly mallard and teal, with a few widgeon and a sprinkling of the rarer or marine forms according to season and the severity of the weather. I have before me a complete record of the fowl taken at one decoy for nearly a century, and this is interesting as showing not only the number of divers taken, but also a record of the species. That the migratory fowl return to the same waters year after year is confirmed by the fact that at the Ashby Decoy, already referred to, a "grey" duck with a conspicuous white neck spent eight winters there; and another abnormally coloured one visited it regularly for four or five years.
The duck decoys, once common throughout the country, fell into general disuse about the beginning of the present century; and their decline has been contemporaneous with the improvements made in firearms and all relating to shooting. Often as many marine ducks are bagged by one shot from a punt gun as the fowler can take in a day, and whilst the former can follow the birds, the latter must wait for their coming before he can commence decoying.
Duck decoying is one of the most interesting phases of woodcraft, and really skilled modern fowlers are as rare as trained falconers. Moreover, decoying is one of the fine arts. The decoy-man surrounds his craft with as much mystery as the old fish poacher his preparation of salmon roe, and fowling secrets are often kept in families for generations.
The best decoys are those about two or three acres in extent, and surrounded with wood. On larger ones fowl are difficult to work, and although there may be thousands on the water, none may be near enough to a "pipe" to regard either the dog or the "call" ducks. Before speaking of the actual working, it may be well to give a general outline of a decoy. Imagine then a stretch of water about the size indicated, and having five or six radiating arms or inlets—a figure represented exactly by a starfish, or the body and legs of a spider. The arms, called "pipes," curve away from the main pool so that it is impossible to see more than a short distance up them. They are also arranged that whichever way the wind blows, one or other of the pipes may be approached without getting to windward of the quick-scented fowl. The "pipes" are covered over with netting, and gradually diminish in height and width till they terminate in a "tunnel-net." Wooden palings bound these, built obliquely, over-lapping at regular intervals, and connected by low barriers. By this arrangement any one standing behind the palings is only visible to whatever is further up the "pipe," and cannot be seen by the occupants of the pool. This then is the general structure.
And now we must look to other matters essential to the general working of a decoy. About midsummer the "call" ducks are put upon the water, and their training is at once taken in hand. As this is an important part of the process, the ducks should be young, made very tame, and taught to come to any pipe from all parts of the pool when they are whistled. Previously these have been pinioned to prevent their flying away, and they cannot leave the lake. Still another requisite is a well-trained dog. Custom has always established that this shall be red and as "foxy"-looking as possible; and certainly dogs of this colour prove especially attractive to wild-fowl.
About the beginning of September mallard and teal begin to congregate in the decoys, and a month later, if easterly winds prevail, there will probably be a flight of fowl from the north, consisting of mallards, teal, widgeon, pochards, and shovellers. These are attracted to the decoys by the resident birds, but more because it is their habit to fly off at dusk, and return at daybreak to sleep and enjoy themselves in the fancied security of the reedy pool.
Nothing requires more care and judgment than the successful decoying of ducks. It is carried on most successfully between nine and ten in the morning and three and four in the afternoon. In open weather the fowl are captured almost entirely by means of the dog, but as soon as frost sets in they are taken by feeding them in the pipe, and keeping a piece of water constantly open near it. Now as to the actual working. If the birds are sluggish the trained dog cleverly works them from the bank, and either drives or attracts them by curiosity to the pipe to be worked, being also aided by the decoy ducks and induced to stay by finding corn scattered about. By skilful manipulation the fowl are worked up the pipe, the dog trotting in and out of the reed-screens and luring them further and further away. Soon they have made sufficient progress to enable the man to show himself, and this he does at the same time waving his hat. Retreat to the pool is cut off, and the terrified birds rush up the pipe only to find themselves in the narrowing tunnel-net which terminates it. This is at once detached, and the final scene is the wringing of the ducks' necks by the decoy man. As all the pipes curve to the right the decoying is unseen from the pool, and one set of fowl can be "worked" whilst others are sleeping or preening themselves on the lake. Further aids of concealment for the working of the decoy other than those enumerated are banks of earth and brushwood running parallel to the palings.