PASSENGER PIGEONS. 125 
’ tramped; the only alteration in the performance being an 
occasional halt, when an acute observation of some sign 
would cause comments from all parties, excepting we two 
pale-faces. First, it would be a broken twig; next, an in- 
dentation of the ground; and, thirdly, what would not have 
appeared to the uninitiated a rarity in sheep pastures. Al- 
though this was all Greek to us, we determined to look 
knowing, say nothing, and possibly, like many another un- 
der similar circumstances, get credit for being perfect Nim- 
rods. A halt was at length called, and old Chief John, no 
small-bug, spoke like an oracle. The deer had gone to the 
big swamp, and if we wanted buck we must go there. Off 
again we started, I having come to the determination that 
the whole thing was a humbug, and that I would slip off 
the first available opportunity. The desired chance soon 
offered, and after half an hour’s walking I struck the mar- 
gin of the lake where the canoes had been left. Another I 
found before me at this rendezvous, which helped much to 
console me for not being the only deserter. We had not 
long been dawdling and attempting to kill time, when some 
pigeons came down to drink; so, drawing my buck- shot, 
and replacing it with No. 6,I came to the conclusion, as I 
could not have venison, I would try and procure some of 
them. Nor was I unsuccessful, for soon half a dozen long- 
tails (the wild pigeons of America have long tails) swelled 
the voluminous proportions of my pockets. There is an 
end to all things, and even pigeons got wary of our prox- 
imity, and a second period of inaction followed. However, 
the scenery was pretty, the foliage brilliant, the tempera- 
ture pleasant, and a hunter might be far less comfortably 
situated. 
Time was passing rapidly, the sun was fast dipping into 
the horizon, and consequently our indefatigable friends could 
not much longer be absent. Thus I thought, when Master 
