SHOOTING MALLARDS FROM A SCULL BOAT. 53 



a year old. And in her construction I tried to avoid 

 the faults and imperfections noticed in others, for years. 

 See how lightly and airily she sits on the water, rising 

 and falling by the motion of the slight waves. The 

 bow at first may not impress you favorably, your mind 

 will revert to your yachting, " when the sharp prow 

 of your yacht clove the water like a knife." Very true ; 

 and you may not like the sled-runner shape of the bow. 

 Wait until, gently propelled with the sculling oar, she 

 glides over floating sticks and other debris, then you 

 will see, instead of shoving it ahead in a surging, bub- 

 bling mass, she quietly slides over it without effort or 

 noise. Look at her sides ; so smooth that not the 

 slightest ripple will be made as we pass along, and that 

 gentle sloping stern slips through the water, leaving 

 the smallest of wakes as she passes. The oars are 

 bound with leather where they touch the locks. As if 

 that were not enough to insure quietness, the locks 

 are covered with heavy leather ; the sculling oar, where 

 it comes in contact with the boat is also covered. 



We are in the boat. Sit on my shell box, it will 

 answer a double purpose ; and this is one of them. You 

 will have but slight rowing. I shall do most of the 

 work to-day, and you most of the shooting. You are 

 an admirer of the beautiful, enjoy pretty scenery, and 

 Nature in her varied and changeable garb. You smile 

 incredulously, as if to ask me how I know it. If I am 

 wrong, why do you gaze so intently over my head, 

 and back of me, at the deep, unbroken bluffs, whose 

 solid walls extend so high toward the heavens ; or on 

 their heights, where immense oaks stretch out their 

 gigantic arms to the four points of the compass ; at 

 their neighbors, the strong hickory, whose variegated 



