212 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



lunch, also a gun and a supply of ammunition to 

 carry, so that my hands were well occupied and 

 the pockets of my shooting-coat bulged. There 

 was to be no escape for wawa this time. If the 

 weather turned too dark for me to bring him 

 down with the speed shutter, he was to take his 

 chances with the twelve-gauge, which is not so 

 partial to any particular light conditions. 



It felt like a mid-October morning, for the 

 mud on the roads was frozen, and a keen air still 

 drifted out of the northwest. As I trudged 

 along the road that skirted the lake shore, a flock 

 of loud-voiced mallards got up with a rush from 

 a bay; but soon the road turned across country; 

 and then, save for the keen, morning yells of two 

 answering coyotes, I was in a deserted world 

 during the remainder of my four-mile tramp. I 

 was alone also for some time after reaching my 

 destination, as contrary to all precedent, Andy 

 was late. 



When daylight crept over the chill, gray, 

 prairie landscape, we were a few miles west and 

 a little north of the lake, and when the distorted 

 sun peeped up through the haze upon the 

 horizon, we halted and eagerly watched the dull 

 sky-line for the coming of the morning flight. 



