158 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 
ing to her progeny her extensive knowledge of the world, 
some gallant lover worshiping at the shrine of his devotion, 
or possibly a half-starved unfortunate desirous of gaining 
some retreat where appetite could be gratified. 
The first bear I ever shot was doubtless suffering from 
the last. I will narrate the circumstance. In the State of 
Wisconsin, near Green River, there are situated some beau- 
tiful retired sheets of water. These spots had long enchant- 
ed me with their attractiveness, for game abounded in their 
vicinity ; the scenery was beautiful, and, above all, you were 
entirely free from man’s intrusion. Could it be wondered, 
then, that seldom a week passed that I did not find time 
to visit them? Summer had unconsciously glided into au- 
tumn, the dark, dense covering of the trees had changed to 
all the gaudy hues of the rainbow, and the enlarged ripples 
on the water, and occasional sighings of the wind, predict- 
ed that at no distant period another shroud than the green 
grasses would cover the surface of the earth. x 
On the day in question, when I left my couch, immense 
numbers of wild fowl were migrating southward—evident 
signs that cold weather had made its appearance north. 
So, hyping possibly to kill a swan, or a scarce specimen of 
wild duck, I determined to visit my lakes once more ere 
they were frozen up. At noon, when J started to fulfill my 
purpose, large flakes of snow were noiselessly descending, 
but not in sufficient numbers to obliterate the trail. The 
water reached, the first glance exposed a sight only seen 
by those who reside beyond the verges of civilization, 
where the wild denizens of the air or inhabitants of the 
land reign supreme. The surface of the lakes was covered 
with ducks of every variety—moving room even looked 
scarce; still phalanx after phalanx came swooping down 
before the wind with the well-known velocity that a wild 
duck’s wings command. Quack, quack, quack, went the 
