22 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 



" Oh-ee-he, Oh-ee-he." Great days and happy ones 

 were they for that boy. Then again we see him a few 

 years later ; he now has a double-barrelled gun ; his ac- 

 coutrements are also changed. Now he hunts on horse- 

 back, riding a pony, known for her gentle disposition. 

 Approaching a slough, he hears the flutter of wings, 

 over his head, and a little to the left is a flock of ten 

 mallards. He fires at the leader, and kills the third one. 

 No soliloquizing for him ; it doesn't enter his head that he 

 made a clean miss, but he regrets the fact that his gun 

 scatters so much on birds, when it makes such an 

 excellent target on paper. 



He sees ducks lighting in a pond. How well he 

 knows that hole ! Often and often has he wormed his 

 lithe body toward that spot to meet his reward by 

 knocking over a mallard, sometimes a pair of them. As 

 he crawls along, he stops for breath, then peei-s silent- 

 ly over the waving grass, trying to catch a glimpse of 

 the ducks. He looks back at the pony, while she, 

 gentle, faithfull Nell, untethered, obedient to her 

 master and companion's call waits for him, and nibbles 

 and munches away at the succulent bottom grass. Those 

 were the happy days of his young life. No cares, no 

 responsibilities, nothing to mar the mirror of his boy- 

 hood days. All was with him unalloyed pleasure and 

 happiness. To be sure, he was vexed with school, 

 especially when the wild pigeon was seeking its northern 

 home ; but the vexation was borne with complacency, 

 because he knew that after school time was his, and 

 the flight of the pigeon would continue until the man- 

 tle of darkness was thrown over the earth, until after 

 the going down of the setting sun. We see him in the 



