130 CURElTirCE MARSHES. 



of two hundred, whicli it has been the ambition of 

 my life to attain. 



On another occasion I had the same misfortune, 

 although from a different cause. I was with Jesse 

 that time, Jesse who, or Jesse what, I cannot tell. 

 So faithful and trustworthy a fellow must have an- 

 other name, a full name ; but often as I have availed 

 myself of his care in the marshes of Currituck, I am 

 ashamed to confess that I have forgotten it. Every 

 one calls him simply "Jesse," out of kindly feeling 

 no doubt, for a better fellow never set out a stand of 

 decoys ; so as simply Jesse he must go down to the 

 immortality that this book will give him. He is 

 devoted to the pleasure of his employer, and never 

 more delighted than when the latter brings home a 

 fine bag of birds ; but he is not quite so skillful as 

 his older associate, William Foster. He had observed, 

 when out the day previous, that the birds had a favor- 

 ite feeding place in a little bay near what in club 

 nomenclature is designated as "the horse-shoe." 

 To this place we wended our way as soon as we could 

 cross the intervening three miles of distance. The 

 bay was not large, and at its mouth was contracted 

 into two narrow points which were hardly a hundred 

 yards apart. 1 had never shot at this particular 

 point, and Jesse did not think of the effect of the sun 

 wlion he made his selection. One point was prob- 

 ably as favorable as the other, with that exception, 

 but the one he selected brought the birds directly 

 between me and that luminary when he shot his 

 burning and blinding rays from mid-heaven. The 



