SHOOTING MALLARDS FROM A SCULL BOAT. 67 



down your oar, and as we go along you will feel a grat- 

 ing sensation, as the blade moves over the bo;ttom, 

 which you can easily touch. We are floating over the 

 crest of a hidden sand-bar, whose great flat surface lies 

 dull and motionless exposed to view when the water 

 recedes a little. At the west, grimly standing in re- 

 lief as against the horizon, immense trees are dimly seen. 

 They are the remnants of a thick forest that stood here 

 before time and civilization robbed them of their silent 

 companions. And then to the south of us, see, what a 

 beautiful sight ! a steamer coming through the draw of 

 the bridge, flashing her electric light until the very heav- 

 ens are illuminated by its strong rays. It darts on the 

 river, and the rippling water seems as silver in the 

 brightness of its rays ; while on the outer edges of the 

 reflected light it grows duller and duller, until from a 

 leaden hue it turns into inky blackness. The island 

 stands out in the brilliant light, more conspicuous than 

 in the glare of the sun as the quivering light flares on 

 the dense trees, turning their leaves to a darker green. 

 The flitting, fleeting objects waver and tremble on the 

 sleeping earth, bringing into prominence some old 

 blighted stump, standing grimly, like a patrol on duty ; 

 and we can imagine that at any moment some Mephis- 

 topheles, with satanic grin, will peer from behind it, 

 waiting and watching for some pliant Faust, or gloating 

 over the miseries of some penitent and weeping Mar- 

 guerite. 



The leaves, in fantastic shadows on the surface glimmer, 

 Flitting brightly, tremoring lightly, by the night wind gently blown, 



While over the water the brilliant light shimmers; 

 Each moment something wierd, some grand sight is shown. 



At the levee our man waits for us, helps us with the 



