156 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



gether with morning-glory and hop-vines. 

 When finally I got through it and dared a peep 

 out over the water, I was more chagrined than 

 surprised to see that I had the bay all to myself, 

 and that my trusty had all but reached me with 

 the canoe. He informed me that "They went 

 right over those willows long ago," so I had to 

 find my comfort in the fact that for some time 

 I had been stalking the bay. Doubtless my own 

 rumpus in the thicket quite drowned the noise 

 of the get-away of the wary birds. 



About five miles from home we came to the 

 mouth of Plum Creek, a sluggish channel con- 

 necting several miles of slough and marsh land 

 with the main lake. In seasons of high water 

 the stream is several feet deep and is well known 

 to the fishermen of the locality, but now it was 

 almost dry. 



It was taken for granted that the mouth of 

 the creek would be well-peopled by the denizens 

 of the marsh, and we were not disappointed. 

 Yellowlegs were probing in the shallows, and a 

 squad of sleepy ducks of different lineage were 

 sunning themselves on the low mud-banks. Inch 

 by inch, under Henry's deft hand the canoe stole 

 toward them, till the click of the shutter caused 



