IN LETTERS OE GOLD. 



399 



Eben sat in the bow, with his gun at 

 ready, while I cautiously propelled our 

 boat. The lake was at its highest, from the 

 fall rains, and the banks of the creek were 

 overflowed some distance into the woods 

 beyond; the creek being well wooded, to 

 its very banks. I skirted the edge of the 

 hemlocks, keeping well under their shadow, 

 often dodging in and out among them. 



We proceeded in this manner for a mile 

 or so without seeing a sign of game or 

 hearing a sound, save the occasional splash 

 of a musk-rat in the water. But as we were 

 making a short cut through the firs, at a 

 bend in the stream, we could distinctly see 

 a flock of mallards, 5 in number, out on the 

 open water before us. 



Eben did not venture to turn to speak to 

 me, or signal me in any way for fear of 

 alarming them; but I stopped paddling to 

 let him know I had seen them also. I did 

 not even dare lay down the paddle and 

 reach for my gun, but remained perfectly 

 motionless while we drifted slowly along 

 through the trees toward them, wholly un- 

 observed. 



Finally — an age it seemed to us, so great 

 was the suspense — we came within range. 

 As we emerged from the woods the birds 

 rose and Eben scored a second pretty doub- 

 le for the day, right and left. The other 

 birds, by good fortune, turned and at- 

 tempted to fly over us, but I soon had hold 

 of my gun and brought 2 of them down. 



Having paddled up the stream to the 

 rapids without farther luck, we turned and 

 drifted down with the current. What a 

 pleasure it was to float noiselessly along, 

 at our ease, beneath the Overhanging hem- 

 locks and alders, surveying the banks as 

 they passed, as if in review, before us! 



At a glade in the hemlocks, we landed to 

 stretch our legs and eat our lunch. Bis- 

 cuit, chicken, eggs, doughnuts and pies 

 rapidly disappeared before our keen ap- 

 petites and were topped off with fragrant 

 cigars. 



After a short rest we returned to our boat 

 and floated on again to the mouth of the 

 creek, securing on the way a solitary Mal- 

 lard, probably the sole survivor of the flock 

 we had surprised farther up. 



Meanwhile the sky had become overcast, 

 and the wind was rapidly freshening with 

 the setting sun. Armies of lowering cloud- 

 banks were hurrying up from the North, 

 and great blue, foam-crested waves were 

 rolling and tossing into the mouth of the 

 creek. The sail flapped wildly as we raised 

 it, and our little craft seemed to shudder 

 from stem to stern. The outlook was not 

 altogether pleasing, but we had perfect 

 confidence in the seaworthiness of our boat 

 and rather enjoyed the hazard and the keen 

 excitement, calling into play, as it did, 

 every nerve and muscle. Strange indeed is 

 man's nature, that he should relish danger! 



" All ready now, hang onto your sheet." 



Slowly and heavily we beat out of the creek 

 against the gale, into open water, breasting 

 the huge waves which tossed their spray 

 entirely over us. Once clear of the shallows 

 and long stretches of sand beaches, we 

 eased off and bore away on the starboard 

 tack. As lightly as a cork, we rode over 

 the white caps as we flew along, for fully 2 

 miles, and returned on the port tack. 



"Can you make that headland?" asked 

 Eben, pointing to a long, wooded tongue 

 of land extending far out into the bay. 



" Easily," I replied, tightening my grip 

 on the tiller. And I did, with plenty to 

 spare, too. 



" Run close to the breakers, now! " My 

 brother dropped our half-dozen decoys 

 overboard close up to the foaming spray, 

 as we swept by the point into the smooth 

 water to leeward. Out on the end of the 

 headland, we constructed an impromptu 

 blind, from a clump of stunted cedars 

 standing there, and so concealed ourselves 

 within easy range of the decoys. We were 

 glad enough to get on shore after our 

 struggle with the waves, especially as we 

 watched them dash angrily up the rocks on 

 the windward side of the point. 



Here we lay for some time anxiously 

 scanning the bay. It began to look as 

 though we were not destined to meet with 

 success here. As the sun set and dusk came 

 on, however, our luck changed. That even- 

 ing's flight was a glorious one. Ducks 

 of all sizes and descriptions swept in from 

 North, South, East and West. Thicker 

 and faster, they flew, and hotter and hotter 

 grew our gun barrels, until the increasing 

 darkness put an end to the sport, and we 

 were compelled to desist. It would be 

 difficult indeed to estimate how many 

 scores of ducks flew over that point. Suf- 

 fice it to say we actually bagged and se- 

 cured 19 birds, between us, in that short 

 space of time. 



The voyage home, over the rough bay 

 in the dark, was now before us, and it was 

 no joking matter, either. It was with sober 

 faces we shoved off and bade adieu to the 

 shelter of the friendly cape. In order to 

 weather the waves, which beat against us 

 with terrible fury, it was necessary that the 

 bow should be well weighted down. Con- 

 sequently Eben sat well forward. Anyone 

 who has ever tried it knows it is no easy 

 thing to do to keep one's seat in the bow 

 of a boat, even if the water is compara- 

 tively calm, on account of the rolling and 

 pitching motion, which is much more pro- 

 nounced here than in the stern. 



If it had been anyone else. I should cer- 

 tainly have objected to his occupying such 

 a hazardous position; but I never thought 

 of cautioning Eben, having perfect confi- 

 dence in him, and knowing that, with his 

 experience, he was master of the situation if 

 anyone was. Then I noticed he had a firm 

 hold of the bow-rope, to steady himself. 



