AMERICAN MODE OF CAPTURING DUCKS.—On the American rivers, the modes of capture are various. Sometimes half a dozen artificial birds are fastened to a little raft, and which is so weighted that the sham birds squat naturally on the water. This is quite sufficient to attract the notice of a passing flock, who descend to cultivate the acquaintance of the isolated few when the concealed hunter, with his fowling-piece, scatters a deadly leaden shower amongst them. In the winter, when the water is covered with rubble ice, the fowler of the Delaware paints his canoe entirely white, lies flat in the bottom of it, and floats with the broken ice; from which the aquatic inhabitants fail to distinguish it. So floats the canoe till he within it understands, by the quacking, and fluttering, and whirring of wings, that he is in the midst of a flock, when he is up in a moment with the murderous piece, and dying quacks and lamentations rend the still air.
[Illustration: BOW-BILL DUCKS.]
Bow-BILL DUCKS, &c.—Every one knows how awkward are the Anatidae, waddling along on their unelastic webbed toes, and their short legs, which, being placed considerably backward, make the fore part of the body preponderate. Some, however, are formed more adapted to terrestrial habits than others, and notably amongst these may be named Dendronessa sponsa, the summer duck of America. This beautiful bird rears her young in the holes of trees, generally overhanging the water. When strong enough, the young scramble to the mouth of the hole, launch into the air with their little wings and feet spread out, and drop into their favourite element. Whenever their birthplace is at some distance from the water, the mother carries them to it, one by one, in her bill, holding them so as not to injure their yet tender frame. On several occasions, however, when the hole was 30, 40, or more yards from a piece of water, Audubon observed that the mother suffered the young to fall on the grass and dried leaves beneath the tree, and afterwards led them directly to the nearest edge of the next pool or creek. There are some curious varieties of the domestic duck, which only appear interesting from their singularity, for there does not seem to be anything of use or value in the unusual characteristics which distinguish them; thus, the bow-bill duck, as shown in the engraving, called by some writers the hook-bill, is remarkable for the peculiarly strange distortion of its beak, and the tuft on the top of its head. The penguin duck, again, waddles in an upright position, like the penguin, on account of the unnatural situation of its legs. These odd peculiarities add nothing of value to the various breeds, and may be set down as only the result of accidental malformation, transmitted from generation to generation.
STEWED DUCK AND TURNIPS (Cold Meat Cookery).
937. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast duck, 1/2 pint of good gravy, 4 shalots, a few slices of carrot, a small bunch of savoury herbs, 1 blade of pounded mace, 1 lb. of turnips, weighed after being peeled, 2 oz. of butter, pepper and salt to taste.
Mode.—Cut up the duck into joints, fry the shalots, carrots, and herbs, and put them, with the duck, into the gravy; add the pounded mace, and stew gently for 20 minutes or 1/2 hour. Cut about 1 lb. of turnips, weighed after being peeled, into 1/2-inch squares, put the butter into a stewpan, and stew them till quite tender, which will be in about 1/2 hour, or rather more; season with pepper and salt, and serve in the centre of the dish, with the duck, &c. laid round.
Time.—Rather more than 1/2 hour to stew the turnips.
Average cost, exclusive of the cold duck, 1s.
Seasonable from November to February.
THE WILD DUCK.—In many parts of England the wild duck is to be found, especially in those desolate fenny parts where water abounds. In Lincolnshire they are plentiful, and are annually taken in the decoys, which consist of ponds situate in the marshes, and surrounded with wood or reeds to prevent the birds which frequent them from, being disturbed. In these the birds sleep during the day; and as soon as evening sets in, the decoy rises, and the wild fowl feed during the night. Now is the time for the decoy ducks to entrap the others. From the ponds diverge, in different directions, certain canals, at the end of which funnel nets are placed; along these the decoy ducks, trained for the purpose, lead the others in search of food. After they have got a certain length, a decoy-man appears, and drives them further on, until they are finally taken in the nets. It is from these decoys, in Lincolnshire, that the London market is mostly supplied. The Chinese have a singular mode of catching these ducks. A person wades in the water up to the chin, and, having his head covered with an empty calabash, approaches the place where the ducks are. As the birds have no suspicion of the nature of the object which is concealed under the calabash, they suffer its approach, and allow it to move at will among their flock. The man, accordingly, walks about in the midst of his game, and, whenever he pleases, pulls them by the legs under the water, and fixes them to his belt, until he has secured as many as he requires, and then moves off as he went amongst them, without exciting the slightest suspicion of the trick he has been playing them. This singular mode of duck-hunting is also practised on the Ganges, the earthen vessels of the Hindoos being used instead of calabashes. These vessels, being those in which the inhabitants boil their rice, are considered, after once being used, as defiled, and are accordingly thrown into the river. The duck-takers, finding them suitable for their purpose, put them on their heads; and as the ducks, from seeing them constantly floating down the stream, are familiar with their appearance, they regard them as objects from which no danger is to be expected.