confused tangle of wild voices over the tree- ~ 

 tops. Straight to the shore she went, and * g% h f 



across a little wild meadow, still follow- ^ z->s_ 



ing the flock. When I caught her she was ~ ^j / 7// V^. 

 waddling bravely through the woods, stop- 

 ping anon to call and listen ; but she made 

 no resistance when I tucked her under my 

 elbow and carried her home and slipped her, 

 unobserved in the darkness, into her accus- 

 tomed place in the Widow Dunkle's duck 

 coop. 



That was the nearest I ever came, in boy- 

 hood days, to a close acquaintance with 

 Waptonk the Wild ; but always in the fall 

 his voice roused the hunter as no other sound 

 ever did ; and always in the spring his clang- 

 ing jubilate aroused the longing in the boy's 

 heart to follow after him and find out what 

 it was in the wild, lonely North that called 

 him. Later, as a hunter, I grew acquainted 

 with many of his winter ways, watched him 

 feeding on the shoals or standing for sleep 

 on the lonely sand bars, and thrilled to the 

 rustling sweep of his broad wings as he 

 swung in over my decoys. 



