Beacb Combers 63 



and could not open his fine sole-leather gun-case. 

 It seemed a shame to cut the case, and we debated 

 upon the possibility of both using my gun, turn 

 about. 



A moment later the question was settled. Chanc- 

 ing to glance lakeward, I spied a wavering dark 

 cloud, not unlike the smoke from a steamer's stack. 



" Larry, look ! Curlew, by all that's glorious ! " 

 Larry's knife was out, and he was down on his 

 knees carving the prized leather case in ten sec- 

 onds, and he couldn't cut the tough leather fast 

 enough. Finally he got out the gun, and we walked 

 along the sand-spit, one following the edge of the 

 Eau and the other that of Lake Erie. We did not 

 care for the " black-hearts " and little sandpipers, but 

 with the larger plover and curlew it was another 

 story. 



Birds were astonishingly numerous, coursing over 

 the sand ahead and driving along its shore line in 

 scattering bunches ; but at last we had thoroughly 

 roused and driven most of them away to the bars 

 beyond the impassable channel which connects the 

 harbor and the lake. This fact worried us not a bit, 

 for sooner or later they were bound to come troop- 

 ing back, for we were on the best feeding-grounds. 

 Our clothes matched the sand beautifully, and we 

 lay down about fifty yards apart, where some short, 

 dead stuff furnished the little cover required. 



We lay and smoked and talked across to each 

 other in lazy comfort, enjoying a sun-bath and 

 keeping an erratic lookout for any stray curlew. 

 A " robin-snipe " undertook to pass over me, and 

 I pulled him down, for his kind are rare in that 



