228 RETURN TO CAMP. 



after inch I got over the ground. By Jove, I said 

 to myself, if this goes on much longer I shall be 

 stirring up the old cow with the muzzle of my 

 double-barrel ; but this was a rather rashly formed 

 conclusion. Taking no observation of what was in 

 my immediate vicinity, I placed my hand upon a 

 hare, which had been asleep till thus ruthlessly 

 disturbed. Which was the more surprised and dis- 

 concerted it would be impossible for an impartial 

 judge to decide. I was recalled to the purpose of 

 my present position by hearing the crushing and 

 snapping of brushwood, which clearly told me that 

 my game were off, with a speed that rapidly placed 

 between me and them a wide range of country. 



Deeply mortified, out of sorts, hungry, and un- 

 comfortable from the continued state of moisture in 

 which I had remained, I got back to camp, but not 

 without losing my way. It was so late when I 

 reached it, that the little Acadian owls (Ulula 

 Acadia) had been for more than an hour singing 

 forth their mysterious bell-like note. 



My companion was a better trapper than myself, 

 but he was not so good a hunter. If small game or 

 c varmint ' graced our board, their presence was owing 

 to his skill, when larger and more substantial diet 

 was provided it was usually due to my prowess ; and 

 this day the tables were not turned. A savoury 

 stew was in the pot, and several pieces of meat were 

 poised on pointed stakes, sputtering out their fat. 

 My friend complacently nodded when he saw me, 



