A SOUTHERLY BAIN. 245 



A light cedar skiff, well trimmed with evergreens, 

 and just large enough to hold us both, it was a pleasant 

 thing to sit in when Uz did the sculling. With a 

 scarcely appreciable motion of the wrist, he caused the 

 boat to move rapidly yet noiselessly through the water, 

 and, in some way past my comprehension, he knew just 

 where a flock of ducks would be, if they tarried in the 

 overflowing meadows. This day it was a repetition of 

 the story that may be told by any one who has sculled 

 after ducks. At times we were too much for the ducks, 

 and, getting good shots, brought down several. Then, 

 again, the ducks were too much for us, and were out of 

 shot, in spite of all of Uz's ingenuity and pur united care- 

 fulness. 



There came a lull in the day's occupation, however, 

 of more interest to me than the shooting. This was 

 when we hauled up for a lunch and smoke. It met 

 with Uz's approbation as well as my own, and, when 

 our pipes were lighted, I drew him out as I had seldom 

 done before. It was a great treat to listen to what I 

 may call a natural naturalist, a man that had read 

 no zoological literature and never heard of Darwin or 

 Huxley. 



" Ducks, it appears to me," remarked Uz, as he gazed 

 at the pile of a dozen lying in the boat, " either have a 

 strong smack of the human about them, or man has a 

 little of the duck about him." 



" Why so ? " I asked in surprise, for Uz was not much 

 given to voluntary philosophizing. 



u Because they are so cunning, and do so many things 

 that we'd do in the same situation. Now, there's the 

 green mallards. They will skulk in long, green grass, 

 and keep their heads movin' with it, just so they can see 

 you, but you'd never mistrust they were around. You 



