THE DROWNED LANDS. 231 



The paddles had been exchanged for oars, and with, 

 long, measured strokes, keepmg tune to the song of the 

 oarsmen, the lithe boats skimmed the water toward the 

 low islands Jackson had indicated to us. On reaching 

 the shore we found the land was marshy and wet, and 

 about half the area overgrown with flags, now blown 

 down by the fall winds. 



"Xot a bad place; is it?" said Jackson, looking 

 around the island. 



" By no means ; see these little red-scummed puddles, 

 and bare spots of mud ; they'd make a snipe's bill water." 



" Escape ! escape !" shrieked a snipe, as he sprung 

 into the air a few yards in front of us, tacking from side 

 to side, and settling again on the further side of a little 

 pond. 



" There, I told you so ! Hold on now till I draw my 

 duck shot. Lou, are you ready ?" 



" Ready as I will be. I am going to rely on the Doc-* 

 tor." 



"I will take a Httle fine shot, then. I follow your 

 lead, Jackson." 



" Mike, are you ready ?" 



"Yes, I reckon, 'bout, though I don't see nothin' to 

 shoot here." 



" You just keep even, and we will see plenty to shoot. 

 Send out your dog, Doctor." 



" Hi on, Wag ! Hi on !" but TYag seemed to suspect 

 some trick under such unaccustomed attention, and 

 skulked behind his master. 



