346 DUCK SHOOTING. 



tion for the sum of one dollar, the roads being, as he 

 said, powerful bad. 



Virgil started ahead with all the ducks he could carry 

 and I followed with the rest, together with the guns 

 and coats. At the station we were the wonder of all 

 observers, there appearing to be a general desire to see 

 "the two fools who had come all the way from Metz 

 right in the dead of winter." We reached home in 

 good season, having made the round trip in one day. 

 That night we divided up with several families, and the 

 next day some of our game appeared upon tables where 

 possibly ducks were rarely seen. 



This hunt, we thought, paid us well, not so much in 

 the game as in that we felt that we had surprised Na- 

 ture in a new mood, one which she had gotten up for 

 herself and intended no one else should see. It was 

 audacious in us to tempt her in such a mood ; but in the 

 memories of the day our audacity was rewarded. 



From still another section, and of another season, 

 is the account which follows, also taken from Forest 

 and Stream: 



The air is damp with a heavy fog that has settled 

 low upon the earth, the long grass hanging over the 

 narrow road being as wet as from a rain. The birds 

 are not yet awake. Even that early riser, the thrush, 

 has not opened his eyes. We tread, single file, the 

 winding path that leads from the road down the wood- 

 ed river bank to the boat. 



Dan takes his position in the bow. It is my turn at 



