At seashore, on a sand-mud beach. A man, with a lady near him, shooting at a target with a 25-20 rifle. He is very nervous, but by lying flat on his back to get a firm rest, he makes many perfect shots, the bullets going through center of target and in so doing they strike a suspended piece of cloth, causing it to swing. Occasional shots are wild, however, striking ground before reaching target. Chester off to my left has a shotgun and a 22 caliber rifle. There is a peculiar, shaggy bird edging its way along telephone wire leading towards a barn. The bird is a peacock. It disappears from sight beyond edge of barn and immediately thereafter Chester shoots it with the shotgun. I do not see it fall but hear its cries (squawks). I pick up 22 rifle and walk toward Chester, intending to ask him for some cartridges.