Field Sports in Minnesota. 



709 



A CLOSE SHuT. 



to exercise patience, or even to think of caution, I do not pause to 

 reload, but, dropping my gun, run rapidly to bag. The first is found 



within forty yards ; giving him only a glance, I pass on to the 

 other, which is not less than sixty yards from the blind. The old 

 fellow seems dead enough, and without much ado I stoop to pick him 

 up. when he astonishes me by instantly rising to his feet, with every 

 feather ruffled and his long wings beating the air. His ugly, sharp 

 bill is extended, and emits a hissing noise, and altogether he is a 



unpleasant-looking bird. For a full minute we gaze at each 

 other, at least one of the two at a loss what to do next. It is becom- 

 ing more and more evident to me that I do not care so much for him 

 now as I did a short time ago. We are yet eying each other as 1 

 catch the sound of voices mingled with the confused tramp of hoi 

 and feel certain that the plow-boys are approaching. Not caring to 

 appear in a ridiculous light, above all others to these men, I deter 

 mined to put an end to th<: scene, and accordingly make a quick 

 attempt to seize the crane by the neck. This he successfully dodges, 

 and in a twinkling iroundi me in th<- wrist. Altogether out of 

 I make a bold dart for my gun. when to my astonishment 

 the irate crane gives pursuit. At this moment the farm hands come 

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