112 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 



We had not long been dawdling and attempting to kill 

 time, when some pigeons came down to drink ; so drawing 

 my buck-shot and replacing it with No. 6, I came to the 

 conclusion, as I could not have venison, I would try and 

 procure some of them. Nor was I unsuccessful, for soon 

 half a dozen long tails (the wild pigeons of America have 

 long tails) swelled the voluminous proportions of my 

 pockets. There is an end to all things, and even pigeons 

 got wary of our proximity, and a second period of inaction 

 followed. However, the scenery was pretty, the foliage 

 brilliant, the temperature pleasant, and a hunter might be 

 far less comfortably situated. 



Time was passing rapidly, the sun was fast dipping into 

 the horizon, and consequently our indefatigable friends 

 could not much longer be absent. Thus I thought when 

 Master Kedskin jumped suddenly out of a canoe in which 

 he had been lolling, clapped his ear to the ground, exciting 

 greatly my curiosity, and remained in that ludicrous and 

 ungraceful position for some minutes. On asking him for 

 an explanation, naught but a grunt could I get for an 

 answer, and a non-describable wave of the hand, as if 

 to invoke silence. After manoeuvring thus, my nearly 

 exhausted patience received the explanation that one of 

 the hounds was running a deer, and that they were coming 

 this way. Immediately afterwards I was bundled into a 

 canoe, and although I had never previously handled a 

 paddle, was forced to take one of those implements and 

 attempt a trial ; but no use the obstinate composition of 

 birch bark would only spin round and make most indis- 

 putable signs of objection to its freight, which were 



