Among the Water Fowl 



awed spirits watching Nature in her passion. By 

 noon the wind had reached hurricane force. Floci^s 

 of fowl were fairly hurled in over the rocks, many 

 of them to be shot down by the "station" men, 

 and others, who stood ready. I made no effort to 

 estimate the number of that day's flight. Thou- 

 sands upon thousands there were, and of all kinds. 

 The surf thundered in upon the rocks, and clouds 

 of spray flew up over the top of the blufif. It was 

 a wild, an awful night. Wakeful we lay in our 

 beds that rocked as the avalanches of atmosphere 

 were hurled upon the frail, trembling cottage. 



In the morning when I opened the door and 

 stepped out, a blast struck me that made me gasp 

 for breath and cling to the railing. Blinded with 

 the stinging sleet, I could not see whether fowl 

 were flying or not. A neighboring barn had dis- 

 appeared, lying in fragments on the rocks around 

 the Point. Everything was white with snow. Win- 

 ter had come upon land, ocean, and wild-fowl. 



YOUNG DUSKV DUCK, MAGDALEN ISLANDS 



224 



