274 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 
To every rule there are exceptions, so I will give one—a 
very rare one, I believe —in reference to black duck. It 
was the last day of the Indian summer, and consequently 
that preceding the commencement of winter. The atmos- 
phere was so wonderfully still, that not a cat’s-paw marked 
the surface of Lake Couchachin, in Upper Canada. In the 
morning I had crossed to the village of Orillia in a light 
skiff, with the intention of returning as soon as possible 
with some provisions required by the laborers employed 
clearing land. Circumstances delayed me till almost mid- 
day before I took up my sculls to commence my ‘return 
journey, and as I had some distance to go, and my craft 
was light, small, and crank, I took a good survey of the 
horizon to see that no squalls were brewing. No, not a 
cloud hung on the horizon, not a breath of wind disturbed 
the wonderful repose of the scene, and the two islands which 
formed either side of a strait through which I had to steer 
stood up exaggerated to double their size from the refrac- 
tion of the atmosphere. A strong pull and a long pull dis- 
posed rapidly of space, and about half my journey was ac- 
complished, when to my surprise I saw about a dozen black 
duck not twenty yards from my port-oar. I did not have 
a gun with me, so lost a chance which I should have much 
liked to avail myself of. From curiosity to learn how near 
I could possibly get to these generally very timid birds, I 
altered my course, and actually for ten minutes, if not more, 
pulled after them, and although I frequently came within a 
few yards, could not force them to take the wing. To ex- 
plain this unusual circumstance, I have but one elucidation 
to offer, viz., that they had just arrived from a long migra- 
tory journey from the North, and the fatigue they had suf- 
fered temporarily incapacitated them from flight. 
