264 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 



coolness of the weather, I was induced to shoulder my gun, 

 and start cross country to Lake St. John, with the hope of 

 killing some ducks to add to the fare of our already 

 sumptuous table. I had never visited this place before, 



and as I left the clearing, the last words of H were, 



" Take care you do not get lost." With an amount of 

 c mfidence "usually denoting ignorance," I responded that 

 I was too old to be guilty of such a green proceeding. 

 With little trouble I found my destination. Game was 

 abundant and tame, they being overcome with that languor 

 which makes them perfectly indifferent, and which is so 

 frequently the precursor of bad and stormy weather. In a 

 little time my bag was heavy, too much so to be agreeable, 

 and, considering that T had committed havoc enough, I 

 determined to retrace my steps. Another and yet another 

 duck would come in my way, and presented such fascinating 

 shots that I could not resist, so that by the time I had 

 returned to the place where I first struck the water, I was 

 completely loaded. Have any of my readers ever walked 

 two or three miles, with from eight to a dozen mallard 

 ducks in the skirt of his shooting-coat ? If so, they un- 

 doubtedly have vivid recollections of their weight. If still 

 a tyro, I advise you to make a trial, as a new sensation will 

 be experienced, particularly if the ground is soft and 

 muddy. I had scarcely re-entered the sombre forest, when 

 my spaniel found some ruffed grouse, and treed them a 

 short way oft' on the left. A brace of these delicate birds 

 would be a most acceptable addition to a future dinner; so, 

 without hesitation, I struck off to the right, to cultivate 

 their more intimate acquaintance. Advancing upon them 



