70 CAMP FIRE REMINISCENCES 
for more light. Presently I saw the outline of 
the mountains fifteen or twenty miles away to the 
east, north, and west. Those to the east, soon had 
their rugged tops sharply defined by the sky bright- 
ening behind them, while the mountains themselves, 
at first black, quickly changed to varying shades of 
blue. 
To the west the hills assumed a warmer colour 
as their tops were illuminated by the sun. There 
was not a cloud in the sky and the bay—which was 
several miles across each way and appeared to be 
surrounded by a large fringe of tuleys—was with- 
out aripple. Ducks were moving in all directions, 
in flocks of every size. They did not, however, ap- 
pear to be hugging the south coast particularly, or 
passing my corner as I had anticipated, but were 
flying principally east and west across the bay. I 
saw, however, seven pintails coming straight in 
to me, so crouched down and waited. On they 
came a few feet above the water, and when they 
were quite close, I stood up and dropped one pass- 
ing and another as they went away, while a third 
bird fell wounded a couple of hundred yards up 
the overflow. This wounded duck nearly finished 
me, for prompted by a desire to put it out of pain 
I started off in pursuit. By the time half the dis- 
tance was accomplished, the bird was farther away 
than at first, and I was absolutely exhausted. On 
the return journey, taking too long a step, I stuck 
in the mud and in trying to pull a leg out fell over 
sideways. One only learns by experience, and this 
was my last attempt to follow a wounded pintail. 
