264 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING. 
the water with a loud thud. Turning round to fire at 
the other, which had just passed me on the left, I upset 
the boat and went diving head foremost into an appar- 
ently unfathomable mass of reeds and mud. As soon as 
I had hurriedly examined the oozy bottom, I returned to 
the surface, but on finding that my gun was gone, I 
dived for it, recovered it, and again rose to the upper 
world, but on reaching it, I saw that my craft was float- 
ing away at a leisurely pace. I swam after it as rapidly 
as one arm could propel me, and when I overtook it I was 
nearly fagged out, for my clothing seemed an awful drag, 
and I could hardly use my legs, my boots being full of 
water. Scrambling into the stern of the boat, I set about 
picking up the birds that had been lost out of it, and suc- 
ceeded in securing all. I th2n paddled ashore, and hay- 
ing doffed my dripping garments, I squeezed them as dry 
as I could, and washed the mud off my hands and face. 
I then ran a series of go-as-you-please races with imagin- 
ary contestants, until my blood was warmed up, when I 
donned my raiment and returned to the house with my 
trophies. On arriving there, I changed my clothing, 
and soon felt as comfortable as ever. Such incidents 
teach one that shooting has its shady as well as its bright 
side, and that he who would enjoy it must learn to pa- 
tiently bear cold, hunger, and fatigue, and, sometimes, 
face danger both on land and water. 
