LOON-SHOOTING IN A THUNDER-STOEM. 109 



" There she rises," I exclaimed, as we swept over 

 the wake. " Steady with your paddle, there " ; and 

 as I spoke, catching the line of feathers along the 

 sights, I launched the buUet toward her. 



" Well done ! " said John, as the spray made by 

 the smitten water broke over her webbed feet, 

 jerked out of the lake by her frantic effort to get 

 under ; " load quick, and save the other barrel for 

 emergencies." 



After some twenty shots she began to come more 

 quickly to the surface ; and as we took the wake 

 she made in diving for our centre, the circumference 

 described through her position when she arose grew 

 nearer and nearer to the boat. 



" Now," said John, as the loon went under for the 

 twenty-fifth time, " when she rises again take her 

 before she shakes the water out of her eyes. I 

 saw the direction of the dive, and she will come up 

 in the line of that dead hemlock there." 



I fastened my eyes upon the spot, and, catching 

 the first ripple through the sights, the ball struck 

 above her back before a feather was in sight. 

 Whether the bullet had ruffled her plumage some- 

 what, or from some other cause, for the first time 

 she rose in the water and shook her narrow wings, 

 uttering a defiant cry. 



" Steady there," I whispered hoarsely to John. 

 For an instant the tottlish boat, which the weight 

 of my ramrod would jar, stood, held by the paddle, 



