AUDUBON — THE HUNTER-NATURALIST. '93 



I listened in breathless eagerness. I heard a gentleman near 

 me say — " Mr*. Audubon is last on the list ; I fear he will not 

 get a bed, we are so crowded I" 



I felt my heart leap. 



"What," said I, leaning forward quickly, "is it possible 

 Mr. Audubon can be aboard ? I thought he was still on his 

 Rocky Mountain tour !" 



"We are just returning, sir," said the gentleman court- 

 eously, half smiling, as he observed the excited expression of 

 my face. 



"But, you are joking, are you not?" said I, hardly able to 

 realize so much happiness. He cannot really be in this boat. 

 Where? Which is he ?" 



" He is actually in this very cabin," said he, turning full 

 upon me. 



" The man of all others in the world I wanted to see most," 

 I ejaculated, half inwardly. 



"Well, there he is," said the gentleman, laughing, as he 

 pointed to a huge pile of green blankets and fur which I had 

 before observed stretched upon one of the benches, and took 

 to be the fat bale of some Western trader. 



"What, that Mr. Audubon?" I exclaimed, naively. 



"Yes; he is taking a nap." 



At that moment my name was called out by the Captain 

 as entitled to the first choice of berths. 



"I waive my right of choice in favor of Mr. Audubon," 

 was my answer. 



Now the green bale stirred a little — half turned upon its 

 narrow resting-place, and, after awhile, sat erect, and shoAved 

 me, to my no small surprise, that there was a man inside, 

 of it. 



A patriarchal beard fell, white and wavy, down his breast; 

 a pair of hawk-like eyes gleamed sharply out from the fuzzy 

 shroud of cap and collar. 



I drew near, with a thrill of irrepressible curiosity. The 



