50 HUNTING SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



once prepossessed. He conversed like an educated per* 

 son, saw that I was comfortably disposed of, and finally 

 bade me good-night, in such a tone as made me quite 

 happy. 



The storm had rolled away before the first beams of 

 the morning sun shone brightly on the wet foliage, dis- 

 playing all its richness and beauty. My ears were 

 greeted by the notes, always sweet and mellow, of the 

 "Wood Thrush and other songsters. Before I had gone 

 many steps, the woods echoed to the report of my gun, 

 and I picked from among the leaves a lovely Sylvia, 

 long sought for, but until then, sought for in vain. 1 

 needed no more, and standing still for awhile, I was 

 soon convinced that the Great Pine Swamp harbored 

 many other objects as valuable to me. 



The young man joined me, bearing his rifle, and offered 

 to accompany me through the woods, all of which he 

 well knew. But I was anxious to transfer to paper the 

 form and beauty of the little bird I had in my hand; 

 and requesting him to break a twig of blooming laurel, 

 we returned to the house, speaking of nothing else than 

 the picturesque beauty of the country around. 



A few days passed, during which I became acquainted 

 with my hostess and her sweet children, and made occa- 

 sional rambles, but spent the greater portion of my time in 

 drawing. One morning, as I stood near the window of 

 my room, I remarked a tall and powerful man alight from 

 his horse, loose the girth of the saddle, raise the latter 

 with one hand, pass the bridle over the head of the ani- 

 mal with the other, and move towards the house, while 

 the horse betook himself to the little brook to drink. I 



