Hn tbe Moo&s witb tbe 3Bow 



down with as much unction as the hits. 

 The archer shoots for the enjoyment of the 

 shot, perhaps, not for the pleasure of bag- 

 ging a bird, and he can see his missile, can 

 actually measure its course, from begin- 

 ning to end of its flight. When the shot 

 clips close to the object aimed at — when 

 the bird leaps aside and glares, or squats 

 flat, or jumps stifif-legged straight up — 

 there is a thrill from the bow-arm to the 

 brain, a shock of delight not to be put 

 into literature. 



In the case of the little bittern, just 

 mentioned, there was what tests an archer's 

 training. I found it near the pond in a 

 place where last year's growth of cattail 

 flags covered a bit of bog. It rose and 

 flew twenty or thirty yards, dropping again 

 into cover. The swale was narrow, with 

 solid places here and there on which I 

 could cross, and as nothing in the nature 

 of the ground offered an obstacle to flight- 

 shooting, I determined upon flushing the 

 bird and trying to kill it on the wing. 

 Jarvis, trudging behind me, commented on 

 every detail of my work as it disclosed it- 

 's 225 



