FALL TROUTING

ENTLY I EASED my seven-foot rod through the brushy overhang of a placid pool on Long Pine Creek. Juicy red worms dangled on the sharp barb of my tiny No. 12. I lowered it into the water. Before my offering had descended a foot, an explosion jarred line and rod. The silence was ruptured by a loud shout of encouragement from my companion, Dick Turpin of Bassett.

"Don't let him get away," he yelled, as my trout danced a jig on his tail.

But the cards were stacked against me. Before I had a chance to play the hand out, the whirling dervish escaped on the second leap. Sadly, I reeled, OCTOBER, 1960 3   in my empty line and noticed the hook had been straightened out by the trout's savage hit.

For years I had heard rumors about Long Pine's trout. My first chance to test these magic waters came in early September, when fishing generally begins to improve after the summer doldrums. After driving 15 miles westward over graveled Sand Hills roads from Bassett, we hit the creek which is still an unspoiled waterland. And the towering pines lacing the stream provide unsurpassed splendor.

After that hit and miss, I wanted to call it quits, for that had been the story of my life that day. Three hours on these trout-laden waters and I still couldn't find the key to land my strikes. All I had to show for my efforts were two trout. Dick, though, had landed six beauties.

From a weather standpoint, this first afternoon was ideal. A dull, gray, overcast sky gave us the right protection to sneak up on these wary battlers. And the first crisp hints of fall had given the trout renewed vigor.

As I changed hooks, Dick suggested that we split up. Maybe my luck would change, he said, if I went upstream and he downstream. I agreed, a decision that proved in a dramatic manner that adventure awaits any sportsman who goes afield.

I tried all the tricks I knew as I waded up Long Pine. Every likely trout-hiding spot got a sampling of my lures, but my creel remained on the light side. Before I realized it, a curtain of dusk enveloped me. Unfamiliar with the country, I hightailed it back to the jump-off point. But though careful, I overshot and wound up a mile beyond.

By now it was pitch-dark. I climbed north up the pine-studded hills. Canyons and rugged terrain surrounded me as I tried to watch my step but still keep my eyes peeled for the car. After 30 minutes of fruitless wandering, I knew I was lost. My carefully spaced but loud "Hello's" received no response. Spending the night out didn't bother me as I had matches for a fire. But I was concerned about rattlers. Without a snake-bite kit or small knife, luck would have to be on my side.

I'd been on the move for over two hours and had to conserve my strength. Just when I was ready to toss in the towel and make a small fire, I spotted a pair of headlights slashing through the dark about two miles south. I jogged in that direction, thinking Dick had turned on the car lights as a direction finder. Then the lights moved away. I ran faster. They stopped moving again. Completely bushed, I broke into a clearing and was welcomed by the roar of a truck engine. It was sweet music to my ears.

"I'm lost," I wheezed out to Abie Haller, a rancher who was out prowling the area.

"Heard you hollering," Abie said. "Thought you were bit by a snake. Hop in. Your buddy is waiting for you at the car." Wearily I flopped into the seat, as Haller hauled me back to a worried Dick Turpin. Don't let anyone tell you you can't get lost in Nebraska. I know different.

My luck couldn't be bad for two straight days, but it was. We were back on Long Pine by seven the following morning. As the sun mounted higher in the azure sky, the land began to stir with life. Songbirds started their day-long symphonies. An owl headed for his retreat to slumber.

Dick and I paused for a moment, savoring the beauty of the area. There was only one thing that could tear us from our reverie—hungry jumping trout. That's just what happened, the kerplunk sending us into a mad scramble to assemble our gear. We couldn't get into that stream fast enough.

Dick caught the first one, a sleek rainbow. There was action aplenty, but not for me. Dick's lures possessed the magic to attract trout. Me? They avoided my offerings with consummate madness.

While I was changing lures, Dick let out a war whoop. I looked up to see his slender rod bent like a gaff hook. The line was screaming off his big reel.

"Give him lots of line," I yelled.

"I can't keep it from him," Dick shouted back, as he floundered past me upstream. Most of his line had zipped out, and the fish was still heading away

"Run with it," I shouted.

He broke into a lumbering trot, but suddenly his line went slack.

"I lost him," he groaned.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the rod arched again and the line zinged taut. A 4 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   flash of rainbow exploded out of the water, its bright sides vividly aglow with color. Then the trout changed its tactics, sulking down deep, fighting the hook, while Dick held it in the current and made it work. The trout was mad. It torpedoed away and this time the fish wasn't fooling. Dick's line snapped like thread. The trout was gone.

My partner stood silently in the chilly waters.

"Well, you gave him a fight," I consoled.

There were others that didn't escape, but none was as big as that battler. While he landed his limit, I struggled to catch my few. I had just started one of my painfully slow retrieves when I saw the bright flash zip out from under the rock ledge. It smacked the business end of my line like a mule's kick. With my rod tip snapping forward, the rainbow shot up-river like a bullet.

Then he came boiling out of the water, cutting a furrow like a plow with me in hot pursuit. This one was mine. He hit for the riffles but didn't quite make it. Moments later, he was a gleaming prize in my grass-lined creel.

This was more like it, I thought, placing the wobbly spoon in another likely looking spot. But no response there, nor in any other spots I tried, my luck had gone sour again. Being an old-timer at this game, I knew that the bad days balanced out the good ones.

For real thrills, Long Pine's temperamental browns, brooks, and cantankerous rainbows can be taken generally by three popular methods: fly rod, spinning, or ultra-light spin outfits. Dick used a fly rod in the four to five-ounce class, and about eight-feet long. Using a light leader and a single-action reel, he varied his offerings from tiny, wobbling spoons to gobs of worms that covered the barb of the hook as it tumbled along the stream bottom.

I used two spinning outfits. One was a seven-foot rod with a very light-action tip. Using four-pound test monofilament meant going without a leader. I applied my lures and bait direct to the clear line. In trying to change my luck, I switched to an ultralight spin rig—rod and reel weighing less than nine ounces—and a thread line testing out to a frail two pounds.

There wasn't a trick I missed. I hit deep holes, undercut banks, riffles, pools, and brush piles. Since all are trout hideouts, I tried to present my offering temptingly. We fished only one man to a pool, and entered each one inches at a time, exercising extreme caution. I caused no undue ripples, and studiously avoided scraping, or rolling stones and crunching gravel. Though my approaches were flawless, my forays were fruitless.

"Proper presentation of a lure," Turpin told me, "is very important." There are several ways he suggests to present the trout a juicy morsel. Attach the night crawler to the hook as is and cast unweighted. Ultra-light gear is perfect (continued on page 22)

FILL at SUNRISE

NO MATTER how many rounds a hunter has fired through a shotgun, how many ducks he has killed, or how many different partners he has hunted with, there is always one outing that goes down in the outdoorsman's book of memories as the big one.

Strangely enough, mine started on a trap range while covering the annual Nebraska State Trap shoot at Doniphan. It was the shoot-off in the Nebraska Open, and Jim McCole, conservation officer from Gering, and George Moeller of Palmer were on their second 25.

Watching as the tension mounted, I wondered if Jim, defending all-around champion, could outlast his able opponent. Rock after rock catapulted out of the pit and shattered. When the smoke cleared, Jim had his man by two rocks and went on to repeat as all-around champ.

Later in the clubhouse, after he had received the congratulations from many of the nation's finest shooters, I asked him if he did much hunting, a question every outsider asks the trapshooter.

"My share/' Jim grinned. "All my free time is spent hunting ducks or pheasants. Some fellows take up trapshooting because there's little hunting in their area, but most of them just like to shoot the scatter gun, and enjoy competing in meets."

"What about the old story that a man who is tops on blue rocks may not be a good field shot?" I asked hesitantly.

"It's an old wives tale," Jim said. "Sure, gunners may be better on the trap range than in a duck 6 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   blind. But look at other sports. Golfers can't shoot in the low 80's at the beginning of the season. They have to play and perfect their timing. The same holds true with a gunner."

Before heading for home, Jim told me to look him up if I got out to Gering that fall. He said he would take me down on the Platte for some real duck shooting.

I followed Jim's shooting through the 1958 Grand American Trap Shoot at Vandalia. He came through as "All Around Champion", a title that means he was the Ted Williams of the shooting fraternity.

Unfortunately, the season passed without Jim and I getting together. Last November, though, when I received a note from him telling of the terrific shooting, I lost little time blazing a new trail from Lincoln to Gering.

That night as we worked over a couple of prime Nebraska steaks, he said that "tomorrow makes the 23rd trip to the blind this year, and we've filled almost every time."

The next morning at 6 o'clock I met Jim at an all-night beanery. "Doesn't look much like a duck day," I mumbled over a steaming cup of Java.

"Doesn't have to," Jim replied, "there'll be plenty of ducks."

Fifteen minutes out of town we turned off U. S. Highway 26 South, cut through a cow pasture, and parked the car about 100 yards from the river. I picked up my gun, shells, and cameras, and followed Jim to the blind.

The first hint of dawn was eating through the velvety darkness as we set out decoys on the fabulous North Platte River. Jim's blocks, cavorting like their live counterparts as they worked in the fast current, were mounted on three-foot rods. These were attached to the decoy with a ring, and pushed down to water level in the sand bottom.

"Where did you pick up this idea?"

"The current's strong," Jim replied, "and in using conventional cords and sinkers, you spend half your time chasing decoys downriver or else break your back carrying enough lead to hold them down." He also said that pulp dumped in the river upstream OCTOBER, 1960 7   from the sugar beet factories fouls up on the anchor lines.

The light improved enough to make out the silhouette of the blind perched on the river bank. We waded ashore and placed our guns and shells in readiness. Shooting time was only a few minutes away.

"Look over the trees to the north," whispered Jim. Scanning the half lit sky, we began to make out hundreds of specks that were mallards.

"Man, where are they coming from?"

"You haven't seen anything yet; wait till they really get moving," Jim boasted. "With most of the lakes and ponds frozen, the mallards moved into the refuge at Lake Minatare about 15 miles to the north. They keep the water open by the sheer numbers of webbed feet stirring it up. Close to 30,000 ducks were counted on the lake.

"The birds are going out into the corn and milo fields to feed," Jim observed, slipping three shells into his pump. "With all that feed, it only takes them a few minutes to fill up, then some come into the river before going back to the lake."

With only a couple of minutes until shooting time, I followed suit, popping three hulls into my modified 12. A dozen birds came in above the trees 300 yards downstream. My hand tightened on the gun as the ducks came quacking down to the blocks. Realizing their mistake, they vaulted skyward again.

Ducks traveled overhead in increasing numbers as Jim reached in his pocket for his persuader. "When I start blowing, you start shooting," he said glancing at his watch. "Fact is, now's the time."

Three birds circled out over the north channel and Jim responded with some sweet talk. Swinging downstream, they came in high until they were almost over the blocks, then side-slipped downward.

"O. K., Gene, they're all yours."

I stood up, swung to cover the bird highest above the water, and waited a split second as he tried to correct his mistake. Pulling (continued on page 24)

GROUSE HUNTER'S FORM CHART

(1959 season was October 3 through October 18, with limits of 4 and 8 respectively, and same shooting hours. Open area was smaller than that allowed in 1960)

..Less than 1958, a peak year, but more than 1957, a fair year

..Breeding population down from record high of last year

..Production better than last year in eastern part of open area

..Best population from Valentine and Thedford on east, where range conditions are best

..Record number of 65,831 prairie grouse harvested by a a calculated 17,119 hunters

..Approximately 80 per cent of harvest was sharp-tailed grouse

..Try extensive grasslands, tree plantings, pockets of brush, and rough, choppy hills

..In early morning and late afternoon, the feeding periods, work meadows with abundant clovers

...In midday, work rough, choppy hills, pockets of brush, and shelter belts

...Grouse fly straight and constant with little dodging, so line on birds accordingly

...Grouse may fly from one-half to two or three miles before alighting. When they hit ground, they stick to it. They can hide with extreme cunning

...Request permission before entering upon privately-owned lands to hunt

...All residents 16 years of age and over must have current hunting permit plus $1 upland game-bird stamp; all nonresidents, regardless of age, must have nonresident permit, and those 16 and over, the upland game-bird stamp

Larger open area will permit wider dispersal of hunters

Best bet for sharptails will be north-central where hunting pressure is usually low

Barring unfavorable weather conditions, hunting success will be good but not up to 1959 standards.

DUCK HUNTER'S FORM CHART

....Sand Hills breeding population up 44 per cent over 1959

....Production greatly increased in state duck factory

....Flyway breeding population down 25 per cent, but good late hatch offsets drop

....Number of ducks entering fly-way predicted to be same as last year

...Hunters bagged 305,860. Mallards led the parade with 206,455

...First 10 days found 89,005 ducks in hunter's bag

...Harvest was 31.3 per cent below 1958, and 47.2 per cent below 1955-58 span

...Pintails, blue and green-winged teal accounted for 21 per cent of all ducks downed

...Decoy shooting popular and most effective

...Pass shooting most thrilling and exciting

...Jump shooting on small lakes, sloughs, or cornfields yields big returns

...Best time is at dawn, as morning mists shroud your approach

...Be a conservationist; use a retriever to fetch cripples or downed ducks

...All residents 16 years of age and over must have current hunting permit plus $3 federal duck stamp; all nonresidents, regardless of age, must have nonresident permit, and those 16 and over, the federal duck stamp

...Better than last year because of more local ducks, particularly in early season

..Hot spots will be Sand Hills lakes, rain-water basin in south-central area, river systems, plus these public hunting areas: Smith Lake, Ballards Marsh, Louisville Lakes, Two Rivers, Memphis Lake, Tri-County lands around Lake McConaughy, Goose Lake, Swan Lake, Sacramento, and Long Lake

WHERE AND WHEN

A GOOD salesman doesn't knock on a garage door in the middle of the night and expect to make a successful pitch. The same holds true with successful anglers, only in this case, they're selling their product to the fish. Unfortunately, too many fishermen-salesmen are banging on the wrong door at the wrong time, and often with the wrong product to sell.

How do you become a good salesman? The answer is simple. Learn all you can about the fish and where he lives.

Good salesmen know people well; good fishermen know water well. Three broad categories cover most of Nebraska's fishing waters: stratified lakes, non-stratified lakes, and streams. During the summer a stratified lake "separates" into three distinct layers: an upper warm layer with plenty of oxygen, a middle layer where the temperature and oxygen content drop rapidly, and a lower, cold-water layer with no oxygen at all. Before casting out your favorite pattern, learn what kind of water you are fishing. Don't forget, it's the right door that counts.

Lesson No. 1 of the sales course is to find the right door. Remember, a fish needs suitable temperatures and oxygen in order to live. Once the fish has found these, he will often select a shady, cool spot or maybe a home in the snags. Several species, though, just roam around, apparently not giving a hoot. To take these nomadic, species, such as crappie and white bass, you must go out and find. A give-away on the latter's location is feeding gulls. Once you find them, stick with them. When they move, you move. While fishing lakes at this time of year, you need not worry about lake stratification. Fish are present from top to bottom. However, during late spring, summer, and early fall stick to the top 13 feet in gravel pits and the top 40 feet in larger lakes (if the lakes are stratified). Remember, there is no oxygen in the bottom layer of water so forget it.

When fishing streams in daylight' hours, stick to the holes. When the fishing chart on this page lists the best place to fish as "open water, near bottom", stay close to the bottom. While fishing holes and the bottom, you'll (continued on page 25)

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

WITHIN THE 20,000 square-mile "wilderness" of the Sand Hills, over 600 antelope have returned via the world's largest pronghorn trapping and transplanting operation to claim a stake on their old stomping grounds. One day, in the not too distant future, many thousands will once again roam, making Nebraska one of the top big-game states in the nation.

The Game Commission, carrying out one of the most extensive big-game restoration projects in 12 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   modern wildlife-management history, is now in its fourth year of re-establishing the pronghorn in the Sand Hills. During this time, antelope have been trapped along the western borders of the state and transplanted in suitable locations in the vast area. The entire operation has been carried out with the full co-operation of local landowners. Though success is already assured, the program will continue through this winter, thus shortening the time when the gray ghost will be hunted again in the Sand Hills.

How well can the vast area support the newly transferred antelope? What effect will they have on a predominantly cattle range? Will they compete for available forage? Fortunately, research has answered all these questions favorably.

Most wildlife range in Nebraska is on privately owned land, therefore, the management of game animals must be geared so that little competition occurs between game production and crop and livestock production. Wildlife utilization of range plants is of considerable importance to game managers and landowners alike. Quite naturally, landowners were concerned about possible competition between antelope and the production of crops and livestock.

The best way to determine the antelope's diet is to examine the stomach content of those killed. In this way different types of vegetation eaten can be separated, identified, and measured in terms of volume. This technique to determine antelope food habits has been used in many states, including Nebraska. Many stomachs have been collected during the fall hunting season and at other times of the year when pronghorns were killed accidentally. In Montana and Colorado, game technicians killed antelope at different times of the year for the purpose of obtaining stomach samples. This study gives a true picture since the antelope's diet changes with the seasons.

Over 400 antelope stomachs have been examined in Montana, Colorado, and Nebraska. Results may surprise you.

Many think that since antelope live on the prairie, they must subsist on native grasses. This is not true. Scientific studies show conclusively that native grasses account for less than six per cent of the antelope's diet.

What do they eat? The most complete studies reveal that the annual diet consists of 40 per cent woody plants and 43 per cent weeds or broadleaf herbaceous plants. These are the meat and potatoes of the antelope's diet. The lowly cactus makes up another 10 per cent of the annual diet. Native grasses, although found in many stomachs, contribute less than six per cent of the annual fare of the prairie speedster. Grass is consumed more during the spring of the year than at any other time, but even during this period woody plants and weeds make up the bulk of the diet. This remains true even though the occurrence of these plants on the range is much less than the common prairie grasses.

During the summer, weeds are the most important food items, making up more than 60 percent of the diet. Woody plants are preferred during the winter when 70 per cent or more of the diet may be this type of vegetation. During adverse winter weather, antelope may become a problem on certain cultivated crops, particularly alfalfa and winter wheat. As much as 30 or 40 per cent of their winter diet may be domestic crops. The recent transplants in the Sand Hills have been made in areas with little or no cropland.

There is an almost endless list of plants eaten by antelope. The sages seem to be especially preferred on certain ranges. Many of the weeds consumed are considered noxious by cattlemen. Some, such as certain species of vetch, may be poisonous to cattle. Lupines, locoweed, cocklebur, and a long list of others were commonly found in the antelope stomachs. Buckbrush, skunkbush, and other woody range plants were also found.

The occurrence of these noxious and poisonous plants in the stomachs of antelope can lead to some interesting thoughts on the relationship of cattle and antelope on the range. Many believe that antelope may actually improve the range because they eat these undesirable plants. Certainly they don't compete with cattle to any significant degree. Studies in Colorado show that 105 pronghorns eat as much grass as one cow, and the grass diet of 117 antelope equal that of one horse. On the basis of these studies all antelope in Nebraska, estimated at 3,500, would not eat enough grass to feed 33 head of cattle. When the poisonous and noxious plants consumed by antelope on cattle range is considered, this slight degree of competition becomes negligible.

Landowners, realizing these facts, have co-operated to the fullest extent with the Game Commission in re-establishing the pronghorn. Thanks to them, all Nebraskans will once again relish a healthy antelope population. Sportsmen owe a special word of thanks for there will be the additional thrill of hunting one of the most prized big-game animals anywhere.

A BETTER NEBRASKA

ATTENTION NEBRASKANS. At least one-half billion dollars will be spent in this state when k Interstate 80 is completed. If, and only if, that is, Nebraskans capitalize on the great Western vacationland that is ours.

Nebraska will go on display before America in the 15 years or less in which Highway 80 is readied to link East to West. One-half of the American people live along this road. With this shortest, fastest route to the vacation West beckoning, these people will take to the road in ever-increasing numbers, beyond even our highest estimations. They will spend 30 billion dollars a year for touring and vacationing. We can claim 500 million of this total.

These tourists are ours once they hit the Missouri; ours if we act. Will we give them vast empty stretches broken only by occasional sunflowers and weathered windmills? Will we thus encourage them to press on faster in an attempt to "make Nebraska in one day?" We wouldn't dare be so foolhardy. For with a little effort, we can offer tourists the greatest variety of Western vacation wonders ever gathered together within the boundaries of one state.

The Platte Valley, which has been the main artery for millions in the past, is one of the great historic areas of the nation. Mile for mile, it has more historic potential than any other area along the entire transcontinental highway. The home of the great buffalo herds and Plains Indians, the Platte was first viewed by fur-trapping whites. Soon came the emigrants with their strong oxen and great white-topped wagons, ripping out the grass and packing the earth for miles across as they blazed the trail West. Dust-clouding Pony Express hoofs, silvery telegraph wires, and twin rails later stretched up the Platte, and Nebraska met its date with destiny; a destiny that lives on today.

Nebraska's potential customers relish the Old West and its history. Today's television and motion picture fare don't even begin to offer the kind of West that is so uniquely Nebraska. We have a whole world of western history within easy reach of the Interstate.

Build and develop our attractions along the Interstate, and the tourists are ours. What person can resist the authentic Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, which is in the plans for reviving. Gold-braided Cossacks, Japanese cavalry, horsemen from throughout the world, participated in Buffalo Bill's show, which originated from his home in North Platte. The Game Commission wants to buy the home, and plans for an annual summer theater based on those thrilling days of the old West are included in the restoration.

And what man with but a drop of outdoorsman's blood cannot thrill to the 200-mile-long system of great lakes beginning at Grand Island and ending at Lake McConaughy? Some are already in place. With the Mid-State chain added, this system will 14 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   contain 50 reservoirs with a total surface-water area of 65,000 acres. Expand the fabulous fishing already taking place in the southwest in this area, and you have terrific recreational possibilities. With camping and wayside areas in abundance, no place will be "full camp".

Though it is a key, the Platte Valley is not the only great tourist potential in Nebraska. In the east is the Missouri River, where an interstate-national park is proposed. Two Rivers Recreation Area, a major step in recreation development, has already been accepted as a prime outdoor spot. The Salt-Wahoo project will create several thousand acres of recreationally valuable water. A new state park in southeast Nebraska is planned, as is enlargement of the Alexandria Recreation Area in the southeast.

State lakes are needed and planned in the area north of the Platte River and east of the Sand Hills. In the great Sand Hills country antelope are returning to their old home, scaled quail and wild turkey are doing well, and pheasants and bobwhites thrive in areas where cover is adequate. Add to this prime duck, grouse, and deer hunting and you have a sportsman's mecca.

Norden, Merritt, and Sherman reservoirs will be developed, adding again to the over-all potential of the Sand Hills. Well-marked access roads are the only problem here, as they are in many parts of the state.

Nebraska in all its natural beauty urgently needs access roads. Too few people, our own residents included, visit the cascading torrents that are Smith and Snake falls near Valentine. Because of poor trails, too few see Toad Stool Park in the northwest above Crawford. Yet this bad-lands area is federally owned and could be a prime tourist attraction. Again, because of poor roads, many do not know the striking formations in the Pine Ridge, or visit legend-rich Indian battle fields.

More state lakes are proposed in the Sidney-Kimball country, still another area that needs recreation water. In short, the over-all plan blankets Nebraska with those projects which are needed and will "pay off" both recreationally and economically.

Recreation will spur industrial growth and keep our youth in Nebraska. We can build a wealthier, happier state if we act now to secure our share of the tourist dollar. It will take the ambition and work of every Nebraskan. The Game Commission has long demonstrated its leadership in expanding and prospering Nebraska. If it is given the tools— and money is all that is needed—tourism can be come the second-largest industry in the state. Speak or write to your state senator. Tell him you want a better Nebraska. The 1961 Legislature will decide the fate of tourism in Nebraska. Direct it to im prove the state's, and your future.

GIFFORD-FONTENELLE

FOR AS LONG as most waterfowlers can remember, much of the Missouri River has been sewed up tight to hunting. During the season, a few feet of frontage was once worth auctioning off the old homestead, hocking the family car, and hiring out the kids. Matter of fact frontage is still priceless— and almost inaccessible to the public. But not so anymore one-half mile below South Omaha where the Game Commission recently secured what is now known as the Gifford-Fontenelle Public Waterfowl Hunting Area and Forest Refuge. As a result of this windfall, seven miles of river smack in the middle of the Central Flyway south will be open to gunners this fall.

This prize recreation package, made up of verdant 1,200-acre Fontenelle Forest and Dr. Harold H. Gifford's 961-acre farm and holdings, was secured by the Game Commission in a 25-year co-operative agreement. The forest of hardwoods just off of U.S. Highways 73-75 blankets the rugged bluffs overlooking the Gifford farm. From the sheer drop offs, the level farm land below jabs its finger into "Big Mo" to form Maniwa Bend. Thanks to the Fontenelle Forest Association, the area is designed for the out-doorsman; the only access into the "wilderness" area being by foot trails or from the river by boat.

Strategically spotted between the soon-to-be-completed DeSoto Bend National Wildlife Refuge and Iowa's Lake Maniwa to the north, and the Commission's Plattsmouth Waterfowl Management Area to 16 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   the south, Gifford-Fontenelle is a natural for duck hunters. The farm is a top feeding area. Since both it and the forest will serve as a refuge, ducks moving south will wing in to rest and feed. Gunners spotted in Commission-selected blinds along the river are sure to have plenty of targets to shoot at.

Some 23 blind sites were assigned after a drawing last month. Over 100 had applied. These lucky applicants had to build their own blinds in designated spots by October 1. These must be removed after the season closes. Though hunting will be from blinds only, other gunners are still in the running. If the blinds are not occupied by applicants one-half hour before shooting time each day, they are open to the first comer. Access is by foot trail or river, and no decoys may be left unattended after shooting.

Blind sites were staked out by Game Commission technicians. Each was spotted in such a manner that location assures safety, eliminates disputes, and offers a reasonable opportunity for successful hunting. Blinds have a 200-yard clearance on each side. The public-hunting-area portion of the new site generally extends 200 feet back from the river. All refuge lands, closed to all hunting, will be marked.

Hunting at Gifford-Fontenelle will be limited to migratory waterfowl for the present, since it is the only form of gunning that can be successfully administered on such a restricted area. If and when the Missouri is cleared of pollution, the site could provide great fishing opportunities. Plans for the future call for the construction of boat-launching facilities below Omaha and above Bellevue.

Waterfowl hunting and fishing are by no means the only recreation opportunities possible at the new area. Long before the Game Commission assumed management of the area, Fontenelle Forest provided naturalists and outdoorsmen with the chance to enjoy nature in its raw state. The refuge portion of the forest will continue to be managed by the Fontenelle Forest Association as an undisturbed area where trees, bushes, and flowers form a wilderness cover for the many birds and animals that live there. The picturesque marked trails that wind 16V2 miles through the bluffs present an array of sights.

A host of birds, varying in size from the diminutive hummingbird to the gawky heron, put on their show for all who travel the naturalist trails. The refuge boasts a blue heron rookery of over 100 nests. White-tailed deer are also found here.

When you walk the nature trails, you'll be covering historic ground. Logan Fontenelle, famed half-breed chief of the Omaha is buried here. The chief was killed in central Nebraska when he held off warring Sioux while the rest of his hunting party escaped. Only 11 feet from the grave is the site of Lucienne Fontenelle's trading post.

Waterfowlers could ask for little more than what is already reality at Gifford-Fontenelle. This is their big chance to hunt the fabled Missouri, a chance in a lifetime. They won't have to give kids, car, or home away to get in on some of the finest gunning on the flyway.

DIET for DUCKS

FEW PLEASURES can match that of sitting down to a late-evening spread featuring a brace of juicy, cornfed mallards baked to a golden brown and garnished with just the right blending of sherry and seasonings. This is living. The final reward of a great day of shooting.

Did you ever wonder, once you sat back in drowsy fullness to savor those lingering flavors, just why those mallards tasted so good; maybe just a little better than some other ducks that you had eaten. The various duck species do vary in taste when cooked. For they, like you, have a preference for particular types of food.

Ducks, like all other wildlife, spend most of their time searching for and consuming food. They possess special adaptations for securing food from the niche nature has placed them in. All ducks, however, do not obtain their food from the same niche, and that's where the difference in flavors ultimately comes in.

There are four groups or sub-families of ducks in Nebraska—surface feeders, divers, mergansers, and the ruddy duck. Each group has its own different feeding habits.

Surface feeders are fresh-water ducks. Those that frequent shallow waters here include mallard, pintail, shoveller, green-winged and blue-winged teal, baldpate, gadwall, and wood duck. The flesh of these species is lighter and generally considered more palatable than that of the divers.

Both the surface-feeding and diving ducks have broad flat bills with sieve-like lamellae (gills) on the edges. These lamellae hold food particles in but allow water to pass out of the mouth.

Puddle ducks, tiplers, or dabblers, as surface feeders are commonly called, feed in shallow waters along the edges of lakes and ponds. They get their food off the bottom or scoop it out of the water.

Puddlers have a varied diet, but in general, they eat more vegetable matter than other ducks. It makes up 90 per cent or more of the diet of all puddlers except the blue-winged teal (75 per cent) and shoveller (70 per cent). The principal part of this group's food consists of the seed or vegetative parts of aquatic plants. Thousands of pounds of smartweed seed are consumed annually. Pondweed, sedges, duckweed, and wild millet are a few of the more important aquatic plants. Cornfields and grainfields provide much of the mallards' food.

Wandering over the land, the puddlers add variety to their fare. Acorns, pecans, and hickory nuts 18 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   are choice morsels when available. Wood ducks find acorns particularly to their liking. Unbelieving as it may seem, the mallard is capable of crushing a hard-shelled northern hickory as it enters the gizzard, and once inside this muscular organ, it is ground to bits. Mosquito larvae, dragon flies, and other aquatic insects, and tadpoles, crawfish, shellfish, and mollusks are all eaten by the various puddler ducks.

The amount of food consumed in a single meal is truly enlightening. This is what was found in a mallard stomach: 28,160 seeds of bulrush, 8,700 of another sedge, 35,840 of primrose willow, and about 2,560 of duckweeds.

Divers generally frequent the larger and deeper open waters, including coastal waters. These ducks have larger feet, placed farther back on the body, making them better equipped for diving. The lesser scaup or bluebill, ringneck, redhead, canvasback, bufflehead, and goldeneye all frequent the waters of Nebraska.

These ducks really go deep for a meal. Canvas-backs, for example, will dive down 20 to 30 feet. More animal food is found in the divers' diet than that of surface feeders. About 60 per cent of the bluebill's food consists of vegetable matter, compared to 80 per cent for the redhead. Buffleheads and goldeneyes consume 75 to 80 per cent animal foods, and nearly all of the scoters' food is of animal origin. As a result, these latter three may have a "fishy" flavor.

Many of the aquatic plants utilized by surface-feeders are also included in the divers' diet. Considerable amounts of succulent buds, rootstocks, and bulbs are also eaten. Animal matter includes water insects and their larvae, snails, mollusks, and tadpoles. Buffleheads, goldeneye, and scoters all eat small fish, but not generally in large amounts.

The redhead feeds less on buds and bulbs than the canvasback and more on submerged leaves and stems. Coots (not in the duck family) and baldpates sometimes gather among flocks of redheads and canvasbacks to grab rootstocks from the two divers when they come to the surface.

Don't let anyone tell you that divers aren't palatable. The canvasback and redhead are considered two of the most desirable table birds. They are closely followed by the ringneck. The bluebills are not considered quite as tasty as the others.

A duck-like bird, the merganser, feeds almost exclusively on fish. This bird is more slender and streamlined for underwater movement. The bill is especially adapted for catching and holding slippery wiggling fish. The bill is slender and narrow and the tooth-like lamellae on the edges are sharp-pointed, rigid, and pointed slightly backward. The American merganser is by far the most common visitor here, although both the hooded and red-breasted mergansers are sometimes seen. If cleaned immediately, the flesh tastes all right.

The ruddy is a fresh-water duck with legs placed so far back on the body the little bird is barely able to stand on land, let alone walk. On the water, however, it is a different story, for none of the other species can surpass his aquatic ability. He will frequently try to escape his enemies by diving rather than flying. Surprisingly, vegetable matter makes up about three-fourths of the ruddy's diet. Pondweeds, bulrushes, and insects are by far his favorite fare. Because of his diet, the duck is considered by many to be a good table bird.

As you can see, ducks eat a wide variety of food. When you sit down to your next duck feast, you'll know where that very special flavor comes from. But after such a gourmet feast, what they eat really doesn't seem so important after all. It's what you relish that counts.

WANTED: TAIL FEATHERS

Your Nebraska Game Commission is seeking help with one of its goose projects. We would like to receive two tail feathers from each goose shot this fall (they will fit nicely in a small to medium-sized envelope) with the date and locality of kill, and the species. The species isn't important if you are in doubt. Should the feathers be longer than the envelope, it will do no harm to fold them. Any two feathers from the middle half of the tail will be O.K.

Mail to Nebraska Game Commission, Lincoln, Nebraska.

Very few hunters kill more than one goose a season— hence each hunter killing a goose will need to send the tail feathers if sufficient numbers ore to be obtained to make our findings meaningful. Reliable estimates are obtained of our annual goose kill, but not so by species. It is hoped that we will be able to determine the distribution of the kill by species within the state and the timing of the kill.

THE BEGINNING

TWO RIVERS Recreation Area, a smashing success with eastern Nebraskans since its opening late this summer, is the "beginning of everything" for outdoor recreation development in Nebraskaland.

A show place which still bears the marks of grading and construction, Two Rivers is a working demonstration of what can be done when the Game Commission is given the tools to build such a facility. The Commission has long demonstrated its willingness to provide outdoor recreation. All that's needed are the tools—adequate financing and the enthusiastic support of every Nebraskan. When these are provided, more fun is in store for outdoorsmen.

The state's largest and newest recreation area, 933 admission-free acres, Two Rivers is a natural for recreation-hungry eastern Nebraskans. Its location on U.S. Highway 30A just west of Omaha and only 50 miles east of Lincoln is choice, within easy driving distance of over half the state's population.

Public approval of the area has been overwhelming; the delighted grin of a freckle-nosed seven-year-old pridefully toting a four-pound bass is a symbol of the enjoyment of the thousands that have already visited Two Rivers. Trout fishermen have taken rainbows up to three pounds, catfish have come out up to 15 pounds. Lush bluegrass bordering the sandpit lakes offers plenty of carefree relaxation. Slick wayside stoves and colorful picnic tables nestled in the deep shade of the picnic area are heavily used.

Some 28 rental duck blinds along the Platte River are another innovation at the new play area. Enthusiastically received last year, they are open again to reservations on a $5 per-gun-per-day basis. Up to four hunters are allowed in each blind; drawings are held each day of the season for sites.

The big drawing card during the summer months was fee-trouting; for $1 an angler can take five trout per day. Many catches in the 18 and 20-inch 20 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   class have been recorded. The tempo of warm-water fishing is proving just as brisk.

Since purchasing the area in October 1958 for $225,000, the Game Commission has assaulted it with equipment ranging from bulldozers and draglines to fish trucks. Construction was headed by fish raceways, designed for the trout.

Next came the renovation of 5 of the 6 lakes on the area. Most had to be deepened and reshaped. Fill from dredging was used in the grading of parking lots and roads. Carp packed the lakes, but their very presence suggested a bright fishing future in the area. In Lake No. 5, reserved for the trout, about 530 pounds of fish were supported by each acre of water.

Banks of the lakes were resloped to give easier access to the water. Those in the public-use area were sodded for a lawn-like atmosphere. A new dike was built around the south end of Lake No. 1, immediately south of the administration building. The north end of this same lake was set apart for swimming, and a sheet piling retaining wall was driven. A large concrete deck was built for a diving tower.

A concrete block bathhouse was constructed beside the sandy beach of the swimming lake. It has a unique feature—a plastic roof to allow sunlighting of the house, which can accommodate 400 persons. Modern rest rooms and a combination rest room-shower room for overnight visitors at the trailer park were also built. The trailer camping area will be ready by spring, after its parking lot is surfaced.

Completion of a handsome brick veneer administration building and two frame residences for area personnel were next on the engineers' schedule. An underground water system and drinking fountains were installed; and a power transmission system and mercury vapor lights set to blanket the public-use area. Over 125 picnic tables were scattered around the sodded and seeded picnic area. Some 31 waist-high stoves, which accommodate either charcoal or wood, were installed. Woodricks in the picnicking area are supplied from a centrally located wood-house. The area concessionaire, established in a rustic, completely screened building, has charcoal, camping supplies, and food for sale. Playground equipment is available for the tots.

All in all, to the end of this year, the Game Commission has spent nearly $450,000, including the purchase price, at Two Rivers. More improvements are on the way. Given top priority is the finishing of a modern tent-camping area. After day-use and overnight camping needs have been met, and with funds available, it may be possible to construct permanent overnight motel-type units.

It's well worth the price, for each of the many thousands that come and then come again now have a fun and vacation area designed especially for them almost in their back yards. Two Rivers is a dramatic example of what can be done in Nebraska. Given the tools, the Game Commission can build many more such sites in key spots throughout the state, providing Nebraskans with the kind of outdoor recreation facilities they so well deserve.

FALLTROUTING

for this. But in order to get the bait down, cast far upstream; this gives the bait time to sink.

"It's essential to cast the worm with a gentle flip," Dick continued, "so it won't tear off the hook. Furthermore, you should feed the line out as your bait drifts down. Tension on your part will not only whisk it up and away from the natural drift line but also will cause it to deviate from its path toward a hungry fish."

I learned from past experience that if the unweighted crawler is hard to handle, weight the line with a series of small split shot, spaced about three to four inches apart. This, I find, keeps the worm down deep, bumping along the bottom of the stream like natural food rolling with the current. Most of all, the bait, no matter what it is, must appear natural.

Remember, trout are finicky feeders. One day they'll hit nothing but a tiny black gnat fished just under the surface. The next day it may be a big gob of worms bumped on the bottom, or a spoon flashing enticingly.

My partner knew what he was talking about. A Bassett resident, Dick is an avid trout angler who has made an intense study of their habits. Even though he was married less than a week when I showed up, the mention of trout fishing sent him scurrying home for his favorite rod. In two days on Long Pine he showed me some slick tricks I'll never forget.

All his words of advice, however, proved of no avail to me.

"I've had it," I moaned to Dick about 2 o'clock that afternoon. "You have your limit. I couldn't catch mine if I camped out along Long Pine for a week and a half."

Reluctantly he agreed to call it a day. Heading back to the car, we met the local rancher who had opened the gates to us. Dick and I thanked him again for allowing us to fish on his place. Asking for per mission is a must here, for most of Long Pine races through private lands. Most ranchers are generous chaps, but look out if they catch you trespassing.

As we were about to head for town, the friendly rancher nonchalantly dropped this bomb: Two boys using bass plugs had landed an 8-pound brown the day before. Silently I vowed I would come back to enjoy these challenging waters. With me, fishing is the avenue I travel in search of adventure. Whether I catch a mess, or just a couple, makes no difference. I'm out for the fun. How about you?

CLASSIFIED ADVERTISEMENTS

OUTDOOR ELSEWHERE

NEW HAMPSHIRE . . . Next fall some hunter may bag a bear wearing a pair of "earrings". These are ear tags, Nos. 65 and 66. It all started when Ed Robie trapped his fifteenth bear, a male weighing approximately 275 pounds. As bait he had used a jug of molasses poured around and into the trap on some beef bones which were tied to the tripping lever. Never, Robie admitted, had he caught a female with a sweet tooth. Robie called a veterinarian who offered bruin a dose of sleeping pills mixed with molasses. But Mr. Bear wasn't to be caught by the same bait twice. Some pills dissolved in a bottle of coke did the trick, however. The earrings were applied, the bear carted to a more remote territory, and released, raging mad.

WYOMING . . . Planning to have fried fish for breakfast, a camper recently left two trout on a chain stringer in a pond overnight. The next morning only one fish was left. In the other's place was a dead water snake. He had gulped the trout, along with the clasp on the stringer, but had found the chain too much to swallow.

KANSAS . . . Dad has taken over Junior's discarded Hula Hoop. But instead of producing wiggles, the hoop is inviting nibbles. Since the plastic hoop floats, it works well for pond fishing. Short drop lines with baited hooks are attached to the hoop, which is then floated into the middle of the pond. Results approximate those of trotline or jug fishing.

NORTH DAKOTA . . . While fishing at Heart Butte Dam, Tommy Vinje, 13, was thrilled to hook a six-pound walleye, but was bitterly disappointed when the fish escaped, taking the stringer with him. However, the story has a happy ending, for a few minutes later Tommy caught the same fish, identified by the the stringer still caught in its gills.

NEW ZEALAND ... A Victoria University professor recently snatched an immature larval eel from the waters of New Zealand. The "baby" was three feet long, and was thought to be the offspring of a 30-foot eel. Earlier, a six-foot larval eel was taken in Denmark. With a reptilian head, large sharp teeth, and well-developed eyes, 30 to 50-foot specimens of these great eels might well account for some sea serpent legends.

COLORADO ... A Colorado Game and Fish Commissioner has suggested using grain soaked in alcohol to catch turkeys that are needed for transplanting. This method has been used successfully for catching sparrows in Japan. The sparrows had the expensive habit of swooping into chicken enclosures and gobbling up the grain.

When guns and traps proved ineffective, grain soaked in 70 proof alcohol was scattered around the coops. Sparrows zoomed in, partook of the spiked grain, and soon staggered about. In that condition about 500 of the birds were gathered up and disposed of.

TENNESSEE . . . Carp near Oak Ridge are contributing to atomic-age research, advises the Tennessee Game and Fish Commission. The fish, in the Clinch River below the Oak Ridge Atomic Energy installation, are being examined to determine the amount of radioactivity present in their bodies from low-level radioactive wastes present in the stream. The Commission is co-operating with seven other federal and state agencies in the study to trace the course of these radioactive materials through living animals and nonliving substances in the river.

MISSOURI . . . Werner Nagle, editor of a game and fish cookbook published by the Conservation Commission, received a rush order for a copy of the book. The book was needed in a hurry, the applicant explained. He had caught a nice string of fish and was keeping them on his back porch until he had a suitable recipe. "His neighbors are probably hoping we give him fast service," grinned Nagle.

ONTARIO . . . Mike Greentree, 13, in a fishing contest with nearly 100 anglers, won the prize with a haul of 13 carp. Most contenders used worms or doughballs for bait. Mike used wadded toilet paper.

FILL AT SUNRISE

just above the greenhead, I loosened a load of No. 6's. Wings crumpled and the bird pinwheeled downward. My gun swung for a second target that was climbing. My second shot missed, as did my third when I corrected my lead.

Jim was on his way out of the blind when I looked around sheepishly, waiting for his comments.

"Got to get the bird before he drifts downstream," he called back, plowing into the river. Picking up the fast-drifting bird, he hollered, "Well, I'll be danged. I've seen 500 mallards killed here and you get the first banded bird for the blind."

Jim returned and began calling out invitations.

"Wow, look what's coming," I nudged him.

Jim nodded as he played the plaintive tuck-a-tuck-a-tucka-tuck of the feeding call. Down, down, down came the 12 or so greenheads on cupped wings, almost on top of us.

My pick was a big one coming in fast from 40 yards out. The bird rode on top of the barrel as I fired and folded. Swinging ahead, I picked out a second bird flaring up and to my right. I swung past and above him, then touched the trigger. His wings folded like a punctured accordion.

"That's more like it," came Jim's comment as he went out to retrieve the birds. Watching in a kind of shell-shocked condition, the thought came to me that my shooting was over almost before it started. Three birds were the limit.

Ducks were circling downriver as I traded my gun for the camera and Jim took over the shooting. Duck talk could be heard in the frosty December dawn from all directions as ducks were everywhere. Ten swung by outside the blocks, five came over the blind, and a single came from nowhere and plopped right into the decoys. Ignoring the single, Jim kept talking, watching a foursome swing wide over the decoys and drop their flaps. I had my camera posed for action. Necks arched, heads swinging back and forth, they looked over the landing field.

"Hey," I whispered as they plunked into the blocks, "you aren't thinking of 'Arkansawing', are you?"

"No, just thought I would pull a few in for show. I get a kick out of calling them right into the blocks."

"Take the next ones," I suggested, "I want a few pictures of you shooting. This can't go on forever."

I glanced up in time to see about 15 birds coming in like homing pigeons. Jim's gun tracked one of the birds as it scrambled for safety. Three shots shattered the sky and two greenheads tumbled into the river.

"That second duck took a bit of killing," he said. "I knew he was hit the first time, but I had to make sure he didn't keep flying."

Back sitting in the blind, he rubbed his cold-numbed fingers before loading again. Ducks were swishing overhead in nervous little groups as if waiting for the all-clear signal of the call. Just then, a triple sailed into our fakes. A shot tumbled a drake and our shoot was all over.

Tossing his mallards alongside the others just outside the blind, Jim asked, "What do you think of Platte River duck hunting?"

"If I were to pick a duck hunter's heaven this is it," was my reply. "I've seen more shootable ducks this morning than some guys see in an entire season. Here we sit, bag limits filled just after the sun's up."

Ducks continued to buzz our decoys. Some sat in upriver of the blocks and then drifted down past us with the current.

"With all of these ducks coming over, Gene, why don't you try some dry firing?" Jim asked. "I do it 24 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   all the time; helps to improve my lead and shooting in general. A hunter not only gets a chance to check his follow through, but he can tell if he's flinching. And with real targets in front of the gun, he gets a chance to practice judging lead."

Half an hour of pleasant chatting and dry runs on the constant flights of birds gave me a few new ideas on shooting ducks. We sat back for a smoke, watching the birds once again drop into the river.

"This spot we're hunting is one of the best on the river," Jim reported, "but hunting is better than average all the way down to Lake McConaughy.

"One reason for the good shooting all through the valley is that there are three major refuges holding birds here. The Game Commission maintains Lake Minatare and Garden County refuges. The federal refuge at Crescent Lake isn't in the immediate area but does hold birds that move southward into the Platte Valley."

"Something tells me that it's about breakfast time," I said. As we stood up in the blind, mallards rose off the river in all directions.

Hiking back to the car, we noticed the sun had finally broken through a slight cloud.

"Say, Jim," I queried, "how would Fill at Sunrise' fit for a title to a story on this hunt?"

"What are you talking about now, breakfast or duck hunting?" smiled Jim, as I opened the gate to the highway leading back to reality.

SPEAK UP

"For the last five years, I have been trying to find where any woodchucks are located in Nebraska. Can you please tell me."— Raymond H. Stark, Jr., Camden, N. J.

Woodchuck range is extremely limited in Nebraska, with just a small population located along the Missouri River in the southeastern part of the state.—Editor.

"Here is a snake I killed recently. The picture was taken immediately after killing the snake and it was therefore necessary to use the board and spade to hold him still. My wife and I measured it and found it to be 47 inches long with 11 rattles. I would like to know what kind of rattlesnake it is."— Robert R. Kruse, Farnam.

From the photograph and the location where taken, it appears this snake is a prairie rattler. Prairie rattlers are grayish, brownish, or pale yellowish-brown, with a median series of dark brown blotches, and a dark band extending from the eye to the angle of the jaw. They are common in much of the grassy plains country of western Nebraska. They prefer higher ground and are seldom found in the river bottoms or low-lying hay meadows.—Editor.

"My dad and mother and I had a good vacation at Chadron State Park. Everyday I went swimming and boating. I also climbed the bluffs. In the evening we went fishing, twice I caught more than my dad. Thank you for having the contest."—Robert H. Wolfe, Lincoln.

We had a fine week at Chadron. The accommodations were good, the park clean, and it is exceptionally well managed. While there I visited with a number of out-of-state vacationers. Without exception these people were impressed with the facilities and said they were above public parks in surrounding states."—Laird G. Wolfe, Lincoln.

Ten-year-old Bobby Wolfe is the lad who won the Game Commission's contest to find a name for Two Rivers Recreation Area near Venice. Bobby won out over some 600-plus other entries for the first prize of a week's vacation for him and his family, the Laird Wolfes, at the state park of their choice.—Editor.

WHERE, WHEN

cuss, fume, and probably believe you have become the primary contributor to the living of tackle dealers. Even though you lose more than your share of baits, you'll take your share of fish.

Lesson No. 2 on the right time can almost be summed up by saying ing that many fish concentrate their feeding during specific times during the day. The chart gives a breakdown on the best times to take fish based on feeding habits. It's futile to whip the water to a froth when the fish aren't biting.

The chart should furnish you with some valuable information. Clip it out and put it in your tackle box. Follow its clue to take it easy during the summer and at midday. But when the day, temperature, and the water jibe, the right time and the right place, get to work. You'll more than be rewarded, that healthy catch your A-plus in salesmanship.

Notes on Nebraska Fauna

AMERICAN MERGANSER

THE AMERICAN merganser, the Beau Brummel of ducks, is one of the largest and handsomest of waterfowl. Called saw-bill, fish duck, sheldrake, or goosander, the bird answers to the scientific name of Mergus merganser.

This merganser winters regularly in Nebraska in large numbers, particularly on McConaughy Reservoir and the Missouri and Platte rivers. Last winter when McConaughy froze over, the mergansers moved to the open waters of the Platte. One count last winter showed approximately 24,000 mergansers in the state.

Although Nebraska has wintering birds, most American mergansers migrate to where there is more open water all winter. And those that do migrate are among the earliest to return in the spring.

Mergansers are widely distributed over North America. They can be found from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from Alaska to New Mexico. They winter from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico.

Courtship ceremonies are an amazing display of precision parading by cocky drakes before a bevy of females. Dr. C. W. Townsend, writing in Auk on the courtship of ducks, says the drake often stands almost erect on the water proudly displaying the beautiful salmon-pink of its underparts, and uttering a purring note like dorr-dorr, or krrr-krrr.

"A group of five to six males/' Townsend continues, "may swim energetically in front of three or four passive females. Sometimes the drakes swim in a compact mass, resembling a convoy of ships, or in single file. They swim in and out among each other, and occasionally one with swelling breast and slightly raised wings will spurt ahead of his 26 OUTDOOR NEBRASKA   competitors at a dazzling speed to impress the admiring females."

Although many mergansers make Nebraska their home, none nest here. The known breeding areas in the United States are in the northern part of the Great Lakes, northern Rockies, and in Oregon and Washington.

Nests are made in a variety of places, including on the ground among driftwood, under logs, among boulders, in dense woods, under low, thick branches of evergreens, in hollow tree stumps, or in cliff crevices. Sometimes they will take over the old nests of crows and hawks. Some nests have even been found in deserted buildings.

Twigs, moss, grasses, and breast down are used in nest construction. The female may have a clutch ranging from 6 to 17 eggs. Most, however, have 9 to 12. These are a creamy-buff color. The young hatch after a 28-day incubation period.

Females often return to their old nesting place. They will do so as long as the area remains favorable for nesting. However, when cover is lost by fire, or when agriculture drains slough and potholes, they move elsewhere.

The mother merganser is a constant worrier. After hatching the clutch of eggs, her trials begin. If the nest is in a tree, she coaxes her young to leap out to the ground. About two days after the young hatch, she leads them afoot amid frenzied quackings to the lake.

Coaxing the young to fly is a long, involved process. They prefer volplaning along the water's surface, wings flapping crazily. Their small crests give them the appearance of urchins.

In winter, the drake is resplendent in plumage. His head is a metallic greenish-black while the female's in contrast is a reddish-brown. The back of the neck and all underparts are white or salmon-pink. Rump and tail are gun-metal gray while wings show a large patch of white. The iris, bill, and legs are ruddy-red.

A formation of mergansers, feeding in the shallows close to the shore line, resembles a group of avid snorklers. When searching for minnows, their favorite food, these excitable birds swim flat to the water's surface, their beaks and eyes submerged searching for food. Once a school of minnows, chubs or other small fish are spotted the formation upends as one and crash dives after the prey.

A merganser's bill is ideally equipped with toothlike serrations designed to seize and grip a slippery morsel. The greenest tyro can see that this bird's habits differ substantially from an ordinary duck. Like the loons, the merganser is an expert diver, and is swift and agile as it pursues its meal under water.

The dive begins with a curving, upward leap, often clearing the water. The bird then goes directly downward. A merganser possesses the rare trait of a slow-sinking body like the grebes. Although a fast diver, he is unable to rise quickly from the surface and must run, pattering along for some distance before gaining flying speed. Once on the wing, the merganser is a strong, direct flyer.

Mergansers travel in single file, or in long stragling flocks. They are rarely bunched like most other ducks. But when mergansers migrate, they fly high in wedge-shaped formations. Compared to canvas-backs and redheads, they are slow flyers.

Small fish, eels, salamanders, frogs, crawfish, snails, bivalves, leeches, caddis-fly larvae, and winged ants make up the diver's diet. The duck occasionally dines on seeds, stems, or roots of aquatic vegetables.

Mergansers have a peculiar habit which makes them conspicuous in the summer. Riding high in the sky, they utter melodious squawks at frequent and regular intervals. These are very different from the coarse, masculine quack of other ducks.

In late October and early November, mergansers can be found in large numbers throughout the state, affording many gunning opportunities. In the spring, as soon as the ice breaks the mergansers move in, following the thawing ice line right into Canada.

Hunters will have ample opportunity to test their skill against this hardy bird beginning October 8, opening day of Nebraska's 50-day waterfowl sea son. Limits of 5 and 10, daily bag and possession limits respectively, prevail for both the American and red-breasted mergansers. Shooting ends on No vember 26, as it does for all ducks and coot, afford ing lots of time to get acquainted with this hand somest of ducks.

GUNNING IN THE RAIN