270 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 
sling our booty; and if any of our friends could have seen 
our noble selves and nags strung around with the fruit of 
our labor, they could not have suppressed a smile. 
While resting for a day or two at MacComb’s, Grand 
Prairie, Northern Illinois, when on a tour, cattle purchas- 
ing, at the commencement of winter, one of the hands, on 
returning to dinner, informed me'that both ducks and geese 
were arriving in immense numbers. Soon my No. 10 gun 
was brought out, and with seven pounds of shot; and my 
large powder-flask full, I started in the direction indicated. 
The weather since morning had undergone a complete 
change, for, instead of a damp, mild atmosphere, snow was 
falling in large but few flakes, with the thermometer below 
freezing-point. 
On reaching the sloughs, I found birds abundant, but too 
wary for great success; so, after firing a few long shots 
with indifferent success, I determined to change my beat. 
I had remarked the day before a field of a few acres of in- 
different Indian corn which had not yet been gathered, and 
which was excessively wet and soft from the dampness of 
the soil; thither I determined to turn my footsteps, and 
well it was I did so, for a finer afternoon’s sport I have 
seldom enjoyed. Before I got within a quarter of a mile 
of my destination, I could see duck in numerous large flights 
hovering over the place in question, giving hopes of ‘sharp 
work. On gaining the edge of the field and taking a sur- 
vey, I found the ground in many places perfectly covered 
with birds, and strings of fresh arrivals coming in moment- 
arily—mallard, butter-duck, teal, and winter-duck all mak- 
ing the best use of their bills to further destroy an indiffer- 
ent crop. After a survey of the situation, I selected a stand, 
forming a screen of corn stems and iron-weed, and scarce- 
ly was I ensconced, when the honk! honk! honk! of a dis- 
tant flock of wild geese told me that the wary scoundrels 
