MALLARD SHOOTING IN ICE HOLES. 117 



his master. As the man stoops, the dog crouches 

 lower, and neither look to the right or left, but gaze 

 steadily ahead with increased interest, knowing with- 

 out seeing, what they are approaching. When the hunter 

 gets still lower and crawls along the ground, without 

 looking around he reaches behind him, closes his 

 fingers tightly together, drops his hand near the 

 ground, reaches far back, shows his open palm to his 

 silent companion, and thus conveys to him warning for 

 greater caution. The dog understands this signal, and 

 crouches still closer to the earth. Stealthily he steals 

 and glides along, so low he cannot get lower without 

 crawling, for his belly scrapes twigs and leaves 

 and dead sticks. What an intent look in his quiet, de- 

 termined face ! His tail, his pride, that has so often 

 beat brush, grass, weeds and briar, when in the open 

 field or murky swamp, now hangs behind him still and 

 lifeless, lest its movement might disclose his master 

 and himself ; and then, when he reaches his master's 

 side, the anticipation of a hunter is felt by him ; he be- 

 comes inquisitive ; the quacking of the ducks is plain- 

 ly heard ; the dog is unable to resist the temptation, 

 raises his head with eyes brightly beaming, looking as 

 if they might almost burst from their sockets ; his ears 

 bent forward listening for faintest sound ; his teeth 

 imperceptibly chatter as he tries in vain to curb his 

 strong emotion. His master notes his excited state, 

 quietly lays his strong hand on the intelligent brown 

 head, tenderly pushes it down, while the dog casts on 

 him a look of gentle reproach, while the love-light 

 shines from his handsome eyes, as he looks into the 

 eyes of his friend, his companion, his master, whom he 

 would gladly die for. 



