SHOOTING MALLARDS FROM A SCULL BOAT. 67 
down your oar, and as we go along you will feel a grat- 
ing sensation, as the blade moves over the bottom, 
which you can easily touch. We are floating over the 
crest of a hidden sand-bar, whose great flat surface lies 
dull and motionless exposed to view when the water 
recedes a little. At the west, grimly standing in re- 
lef as against the horizon, immense trees are dimly seen. 
They are the remnants of a thick forest that stood here 
before time and civilization robbed them of their silent 
companions. And then to the southof us, see, whata 
beautiful sight ! a steamer coming through the draw of 
the bridge, flashing her electric light until the very heav- 
ens are illuminated by its strong rays. It darts on the 
river, and the rippling water seems as silver in the 
brightness of its rays ; while on the outer edges of the 
reflected light it grows duller and duller, until from a 
leaden hue it turns into inky blackness. The island 
stands out in the brilliant light, more conspicuous than 
in the glare of the sun as the quivering light flares on 
the dense trees, turning their leaves to a darker green. 
The flitting, fleeting objects waver and tremble on the 
sleeping earth, bringing into prominence some old 
blighted stump, standing grimly, like a patrol on duty ; 
and we can imagine that at any moment some Mephis- 
topheles, with satanic grin, will peer from behind it, 
waiting and watching for some pliant Faust, or gloating 
over the miseries of some penitent and weeping Mar- 
guerite. 
The leaves, in fantastic shadows on the surface glimmer, 
Flitting brightly, tremoring lightly, by the night wind gently blown, 
While over the water the brilliant light shimmers; 
Each moment something wierd, some grand sight is shown. 
At the levee our man waits for us, helps us with the 
