34 Ways of Wood Folk. 



With a note of alarm they are all off again, for she 

 will not leave even the weakest alone. Again they 

 double the bend and try to hide ; again the canoe 

 overtakes them ; and so on, mile after mile, till a 

 stream or bogan flowing; into the river offers a road 

 to escape. Then, like a flash, the little ones run in 

 under shelter of the banks, and glide up stream noise- 

 lessly, while mother bird flutters on down the river 

 just ahead of the canoe. Having lured it away to a 

 safe distance, as she thinks, she takes wing and 

 returns to the young. 



Their powers of endurance are remarkable. Once, 

 on the Restigouche, we started a brood of little ones 

 late in the afternoon. We were moving along in a 

 good current, looking for a camping ground, and had 

 little thought for the birds, which could never get far 

 enough ahead to hide securely. For five miles they 

 kept ahead of us, rushing out at each successive 

 stretch of water, and fairly distancing us in a straight 

 run. When we camped they were still below us. 

 At dusk I was sitting motionless near the river 

 when a slight movement over near the opposite bank 

 attracted me. There was the mother bird, stealing 

 along up stream under the fringe of bushes. The 

 young followed in single file. There was no splash- 

 ing of water now. Shadows were not more noiseless. 



Twice since then I have seen them do the same 



