80 WILD FOWL SIIOOTING. 
oar, guided the boat in open channel, or amid thick and 
overhanging branches and bended trees, was forcing her 
swiftly along. The water was high, and boomed merrily 
along through the overflowed lands and between the 
fallen trees. Occasionally, through the trees at a dis- 
tance, in small open places, we could see little flocks of 
blue-bills, swimming carelessly on the placid water ; 
then again, on the narrow necks of land that had es- 
eaped the overflow, pin-tails would sit on the alert, 
with their tall necks stretched up, making a marked 
contrast to the pairs of mallards we could at times see 
as they drifted along the brush and willows lazily pick- 
ing off the buds; or, gracefully tipping up their plump 
bodies, while searching for the appetizing acorn. Now 
and then the faint report of a gun would reach our 
ears, frequently two reports in quick succession, show- 
ing that some hunter having braved the storm was 
reaping the benefit his pluck had earned. 
We were now about three-quarters of a mile in the 
woods, and in the blinding snow could see the almost 
constant flight of birds, some coming against the strong 
wind, scarcely able to buffet it, while others, just out 
of gun-shot, were allowing themselves to be driven be- 
fore the wind at the rate of sixty miles an hour. I had 
called Harry’s attention to these, and incited by the 
frequent jumping up of mallards all around us, he was 
getting the duck-fever pretty bad. We landed on 
a ridge not more than thirty feet wide, and then 
we consulted and made our observations. Harry 
thought we ought to stop here. In his inexperienced 
mind he could see but one thing,—ducks. He did not 
stop to think that it was one thing to shoot, another to 
retrieve them, for on each side of us was deep running 
