RECREA TION. 



167 



with the wind, aim at them, if against 

 the wind, aim a lee-e-tle bit ahead to 

 allow for the wind on the charge. If 

 the wind is from their right aim a trifle 

 to the right, and so on." 



The next opening we came to Hooked 

 out " clos't" in accordance with his 

 orders and thought I saw something. I 

 glanced at him and he ceased pushing. 

 I aimed and fired right at the bird. 



"I have it, Hank, hurry ! it's dead under 

 the water." Hank laughed, but never 

 moved a paddle. 



"What's the joke" ? I impatiently de- 

 manded. He, for answer, pointed about 

 a dozen rods from where I had fired, 

 and there was my duck swimming 

 serenely on. I aimed again but he 

 stopped me, still uneasy with laughter. 



"Only a hell-diver, Mrs. B " "Yes, 



but I certainly wounded it." 



" All right, hit him again." I did so 

 —was certain of it. Out of sight under 

 water, and in less than a minute sailing 

 off in another direction, gracefully as 

 before. 



"Well!" I gasped, "can you hit 

 that ?" But it was again out of sight. 



"Now," said he, "you take men 'at 

 calls 'emselves first-class hunters, 'n 

 they couldn't hit a hell-diver 'ny more'n 

 they could lightning ; cause they both 

 belong to the same place, I suppose. 

 There's nothing can dive so quick, at 

 the first ping of a gun. They're no 

 earthly use, anyhow, wherever they go 

 or come from. Still, I thought you 

 could try for yourself." 



" Well, I'm ready to go home, Hank." 

 " Pshaw, mam, all hunters has days 

 like this. Sure it's better'n waitin by 

 the hour for a fish to bite." 



We crossed a section of open lake to 

 an island-like clump of weeds and rank 

 growth. On the way several sea-gulls 

 screamed above us. I brought down 

 one. It lay with its pretty white breast 

 upturned, floating so gently. Soon its 

 mate forsook the flock and returned, 

 circling round above the dead one, oc- 

 casionally dipping down into the water 

 beside it, and always with the most 

 plaintive cry, as though trying to arouse 

 its companion. I couldn't endure that, 

 and murdered the mate also, picking 

 up the poor things most regretfully. 



That must have changed my luck, for 

 a little distance beyond, I did shoot my 

 first duck, as it sat in cover of reeds ; a 



fine mallard with beautifully marked 

 wings. It rose after the shot, but being 

 disabled, its flight became slower and 

 heavier. We followed up quickly, and 

 my next shot was effectual. What a 

 prize ! Finer than any of Hank's. If 

 he was delighted, I was ecstatic. Oh ! 

 could C have been there at that mo- 

 ment! Ah! my beautiful prize! How I 

 was to be envied. 



Now, we could lunch with satisfaction, 

 and did, in the shade of the tall reeds ; 

 for it had long ago ceased drizzling and 

 the sun came out, at intervals. 



What appetites! the cold chicken was 

 quickly dispatched, Hank declaring 

 that it would take a whole hen-roost to 

 satisfy his hunger. 



It was thought best now to turn home- 

 ward, taking our time and chances of 

 getting what we could by the way, going 

 this time the other side of the marsh and 

 the islands. 



One forgets discomfort during excite- 

 ment — but after satisfying my hunger, 

 I realized the fatigue of eight hours in a 

 cramped position, and landed on Roby's 

 island to rest. 



" Hank, did you ever punt for a 

 woman before ?" 



" No, ma'm." 



" Will you ever do so again ?" 



" Not for any woman but you, Mrs. 

 B., and just whenever you want for to 

 go, I'm ready." 



"Thank you, Hank," said I. 



" Why, you've got as much pluck as 

 any man I ever punted, but they all gets 

 rattled the first trip, no matter how well 

 they can shoot.'" 



I clearly remember then with how 

 much pride I turned and admired my 

 first duck. Did he think it pretty fair 

 sized ? I had mental pictures, too, and 

 saw it mounted on an oaken panel in 

 my dining-room. It was hard to decide 

 which I preferred — to eat it — or to hang 

 it. It certainly would possess a flavor 

 superior to any duck ever shot. My 

 musings were interrupted by a musical 

 "Tehee-dee, tyee-dee, te-dee dee-dee- 

 dee-e," and there, running along on a 

 low stretch of wet clay shore, was a flock 

 of snipe. 



This was luck. I was more at home 

 with this bird, and settled three on the 

 first rise, while Hank was re- loading. I 

 waded out for my own birds. He de- 

 cided to try the other side of the island 



