Sbore-hird Shooting 309 



quantity of birds stirring; flock after flock of 

 curlew has passed by just out of reach; now 

 we let loose at four; a little nearer, and one folds 

 up. A plover comes next and decoys without a 

 second thought, then another small bunch of 

 dowitchers; a single bird is left when we finish. 

 John cuts down a curlew way off in front. The 

 tide is getting down, and birds are less in evi- 

 dence; our visitors now are turnstone; we stop 

 shooting them after a time ; Davy comes up with 

 his basket, and we go back for lunch. He counts 

 up ten curlew, and about thirty birds in all. 



Among the most popular resorts for shore-birds 

 now are the islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence 

 and parts of the adjacent mainland. For a num- 

 ber of years I have patronized some of these spots. 

 We spent a few days not long ago at Amherst, 

 and stayed at Metric's. Metric was a French- 

 Canadian who owned a horse and good wagon, so 

 we put up at his house ; he drove us over every 

 morning, four miles to the beach — a hard drive 

 over soft sand. On one particular morning, three 

 of us crowded into his cart and Metric's horse 

 dragged the outfit for about an hour, then just 

 struck and refused to go any farther, so we piled 

 out. It had been storming hard for three days, 

 blowing and raining, and was doing both then; in 

 fact it was blowing so hard you couldn't face the 

 wind without finding your face in a sand-bank. 



