IN THE OOZY PLACES 155 



the stern. Though claiming a span of but twelve 

 summers, his straight back and sturdy shoulders 

 that bulged in his light sweater were those of a 

 voyageur. Our cargo consisted of a blanket, 

 frying-pan, kettle, some grub, and the kodak, 

 all wrapped in a canvas sheet. We did not 

 start early — it always seems something of a mis- 

 take to hurry on such a day — and instead of cut- 

 ting directly across the lake for the gap in the 

 distant sand-hills marking the mouth of the 

 creek we slipped off southward along the shore- 

 line. 



Game in sight! Half a mile ahead in a shal- 

 low bay, a white, irregular mass resolved itself 

 into twelve or fifteen big, white pelicans. Our 

 plans were quickly laid. Henry was to move 

 about with the canoe to hold their attention, while 

 I stalked them with the kodak. About half an 

 hour later I reached the desired willow-fringe 

 along the shore — I had marked the spot by a 

 scrub elm — and then began to work my way 

 through the thicket. It was now that I found 

 the slip — between the bird and the negative. 

 That innocent-looking willow-fringe was really 

 a tropical jungle. It was a growth of reeds and 

 willows, currant bushes and osiers all bound to- 



