A PIGEON HUNT ON THE OHIO. 



I HAVE spent some years in the backwoods. I have 

 ridden wildly with the hunter, and strolled quietly with 

 the naturalist. I excel not in the chase I excel not in 

 the knowledge of natural history but both I love. In 

 my memory of backwoods life, these two things are inti- 

 mately connected with each other; for the reason, per- 

 haps, that both were followed at the same time. In the 

 same excursion I was hunter, zoologist, botanist, and 

 geologist. When I failed to fill my bag with game, it 

 became the receptacle of rare plants. "When my rifle 

 failed to bring down a beast or a winged bird, my surer 

 hatchet, indented the rock in situ or the stray boulder. 

 Often when riding madly in the deer "drive" I have 

 dragged my horse on his haunches at the sight of some 

 tiny flower with a new face ; and often upon the " stand" 



I have forgotten my purpose, and let the red roe bound 







* The two sketches inserted here are copied from the New York 

 Monthly, where they appear without the author's name. 



(298) 



