362 The Cranes 



retrieving. The subsequent yelping was entirely 

 too long for insertion here, but the spaniel might 

 have won in the double-nose class any time after. 

 Only a second-class tailor with the usual note 

 coming due at the bank can send in his bill with 

 an equally deadly and exasperating accuracy, at 

 least so I've been told. 



While I have shot a few sand-hills at various 

 points and found the sport very fair, the taking of 

 the first specimen is the best-remembered ex- 

 perience. The scene of action was in western 

 Ontario and the bird in question presumably was 

 a stray, for he was two dozen miles, or more, from 

 the nearest resort of a few of his kin. 



In the centre of a pasture lay a peculiar pond 

 of a couple of acres in extent. All about the 

 pasture rose high wheat and corn lands, while 

 near by ran a fair-sized river. Beyond question, 

 the pond had once been the bed of the river, 

 which had cut a new channel and left the pond 

 to gradually dry up. At the time referred to, the 

 water in the pond was about two feet deep at 

 the deepest part, elsewhere it was little more than 

 a bog choked with lily pads and bordered with 

 rice. At one end stood a clump of willows. 

 Ducks of various kinds, the most numerous being 

 the beautiful wood-duck, were in the habit of 

 dropping into the pond about sundown, and a 

 man concealed among the willows frequently 



