POINT SHOOTING. 395 



and put it on a little patch of grass, and then went back 

 and baited his claw with another minnie. Then he 

 caught another fatback and put it up with the first one, 

 and then went on fishing again. He kept this up until 

 he had caught quite a number, and at last when he 

 carried a fish to where the others was lyin' on the grass 

 he set up and put his hands on his knees and looked at 

 the pile of fatbacks, and seemed to be studyin'. Then 

 he laughed right out and said: 'Ha, ha, ha! seven. 

 Enough for supper.' That made me laugh out loud, 

 and the coon grabbed up his fish and run off in the 

 marsh." 



"Huh !" said John. "Expect me to believe that ?" 

 The lives of these marsh men are monotonous. The 

 watchman rises with the dawn, and as soon as it is light 

 clambers up to his post of observation — the roof of his 

 house. This is only a one-story shanty, but standing 

 here he can see over the cane which surrounds him and 

 can look down into the larger bays, ponds and creeks 

 which are within his jurisdiction. He can see if birds 

 are sitting in these waters, and whether any are flying, 

 and easily gets a notion of what is taking place in all 

 the neighboring marshes. Day after day he watches 

 the ducks, studying their habits and learning their 

 ways, and no one can give better advice to the gunner 

 as to where he should tie out. 



Now and then a bit of excitement comes into the 

 watchman's life, but it is excitement of a kind that he 

 does not like. It is given in doses too strong for enjoy- 

 ment. Occasionally the marshes are invaded by night 



