114 THE BUTTERFLY HUNTERS. 



very hills and woods rang back the "Battle-cry of Free- 

 dom." 



World's End Pond was a beautiful spot. It was six 

 miles round. The shore was rocky and the water washing 

 against the ledges had hollowed out innumerable little 

 caves into which the water swashed with a hollow, gur- 

 gling sound as the boats passed by. On the opposite side 

 of the lake from where they started was what was called 

 the inlet. A brook flowed into the pond here, and all 

 around its mouth the shore was low and marshy. Here, 

 the teacher said, was the best place to catch Dragon- 

 Flies, as they delight to dart about among the long reeds 

 and water-grasses. The two boats were pushed up among 

 the broad Lily-pads, and anchored by means of large, flat 

 stones attached to stout ropes, to keep them from drifting 

 out into the middle of the pond x)n the current of the 

 little brook. 



" O, here they all are," said Ben Wait. " I hate the 

 long-tailed things. I am going to trap all I can and 

 drown them in the water." 



He threw his net for a black and white insect whose 

 lace wings were glistening on a reed near by. 



" You won't throw that fellow into the water anyway," 

 said Hal, as he watched the Dragon-Fly soar away over 

 the pond. 



"Now, boys," said Mr. Benedict, "we must be industrious, 



