AMONG THE WaTER FowLt 
awed spirits watching Nature in her passion. By 
noon the wind had reached hurricane force. Flocks 
of fowl were fairly hurled in over the rocks, many 
of them to be shot down by the “‘station”’ men, 
and others, who stood ready. I-made no eitort to 
estimate the number of that day’s flight. Thou- 
sands upon thousands there were, and ot all kinds. 
The surf thundered in upon the rocks, and clouds 
of spray flew up over the top of the bluff. It was 
a wild, an awful night. Wakeful we lay in our 
beds that rocked as the avalanches of atmosphere 
were hurled upon the frail, trembling cottage. 
In the morning when I opened the door and 
stepped out, a blast struck me that made me gasp 
for breath and cling to the railing. Blinded with 
the stinging sleet, I could not see whether fowl 
were flying or not. A neighboring barn had dis- 
appeared, lying in fragments on the rocks around 
the Point. Everything was white with snow. Win- 
ter had come upon land, ocean, and wild-fowl. 
YOUNG DUSKY DUCK, MAGDALEN ISLANDS 
224 
