THE CoMMODORE AND CREW. 319 


After luncheon, the lady receives us again, and heads out 
against the wind, now breezing up, and dances back to the 
brook, swings half around and glides in at its mouth, then 
through the lilies and on up the brook. And here the scene 
changes. 
“©! isn’t this gamey, Mr. Crew?” 
ecSurely.” 
Away up ahead a flock of black ducks are just swimming 
to cover, and will be pretty sure to fly as soon as they get 
around the turn of the stream. 
‘*No! say Commodore, you could pick one out with your 
rifle; I should like one.” 
‘* No, let them get used to us, we want to see what lives up 
here. How would you like a moose, Mr. Crew?” 
‘¢ Honest Indian; truly, I don’t want any.” 
‘* But a nice set of antlers?” 
‘Ah! that’s different; a supurb set I should like. A nice 
fat deer we have, and a caribou now is all sufficient for us.” 
‘“°Tis true; and much easier to handle, so we won’t hunt 
for a moose, but they shan’t bite us.” 
The stream crooks about and we skim close in along the 
shore, and dodge across, to keep the wind from giving us 
away to the game, if any ahead of us, but have poor success 
in this, after all; for as we get near to the head of navigation 
it is blowing from us toward a fine buck caribou feeding near 
the edge of the stream. 
‘Of course he’ll smell us,” whispered the Commodore, 
‘he don’t know as much as a mule, to feed along with his 
nose to the wind.” 
He is directly head on, so we slide across stream out of his 
sight a moment, then a little along the shore, when we drift 
