240 ABUNDANT SPORT. 



murmuring; the old fellow had done his best, and 

 ' the best can do no more/ ' A stout heart to a stiff 

 brae/ is a good old Scotch saying. Remembering it, 

 I determined to prove to the satisfaction of my old 

 friend for often he had expressed opinions to the 

 contrary that there were other nationalities as well 

 as his own possessed of what he was pleased to 

 denominate 'true grit/ 



About noon, as we were slowly traversing some 

 wet, open ground, which was almost sticky enough to 

 be designated a swamp, and which was trying most 

 severely the strength of the nags, I almost suc- 

 ceeded in obtaining a shot at an immense bull-moose. 

 When first I saw him he was straddling down a 

 sapling to get at the leaves, but the distance was too 

 great to hope for a killing shot. I endeavoured, there- 

 fore, to shorten the range, and, while doing so, the 

 noise produced by the horses caused him such alarm 

 that he suddenly decamped. However, we were not 

 destined to go supperless to roost. Shortly before 

 halting I obtained a chance to rake a flock of wild- 

 ducks (Anas boschas). Although the missiles in my 

 gun were buck-shot, so closely did the birds float 

 together, that I killed six at one discharge. If pos- 

 sessed of an abundance of small shot, the sportsman 

 here need never be in dread of short commons, for 

 both Canadian and ruffed grouse, as well as ducks, 

 and other varieties of feathered game, are plentiful. 

 Buck-shot is not suited for rapid shooting at small 



