1U8 ADVENTUIIKS IX THi: WILDERNESS. 



Dipping his paddle into the water with a strong 

 sweep, he turned the bow of the light boat about, 

 and started toward the bird. Light as a cork the 

 loon sat upon the water, some sixty rods away, its 

 neck, marked with alternate rings of white and 

 black, proudly arched, and almost at every breath 

 sending forth its clarion cry, as if in boastful chal- 

 lenge. 



" Sound away, you old pirate you ! " exclaimed 

 John, as he swept along ; " we '11 make you shorten 

 your neck, and sit lower in the water before we 

 are through with you." 



And e^'en as he spoke the bird settled slowly 

 down, until nothing but a line of feathers lay along 

 the water, and the (piick, restless head, with its 

 sharp-pointed bill, was barely above the surface. 



" See her," said John ; " I warrant she has smelt 

 powder and heard the whistle of lead before tliis. 

 I wish she did n't know quite so much, or else that 

 that cloud would pass back of the mountains." 



The plan proposed was to keep her imder wa- 

 ter, gi^■ing her no time to rest after her long dives, 

 and so tire her out that she would be forced to rise 

 often to the surface to breathe. Before we had 

 come witliin forty rods the loon went under. 



" Now," shouted John, as he shot the boat to- 

 ward the wake, " the Lord only knows where she '11 

 come up ; but we will take that swirl of water for 

 our centre, and, when she breaks, you show her 

 what she may expect." 



