THE FORESTERS. 51 



A skiff and paedles near the landing lay, 

 Two striplings proffered to conduct my way, 

 Fixed in the bow for slaughter I prepare, 

 The deadly barrels ready poised in air; 

 Slow round an opening point we softly steal, 

 W here four large ducks in playful circles wheel, 

 The far-famed canvass-backs(3(3) at once we know, 

 Their broad flat bodies wrapt in pencilled snow ; 

 The burnished chestnut o'er their necks that shone, 

 Spread deepening round each breast a sable zone ; 

 Y\ ary they gaze — our boat in silence glides, 

 The slow-moved paddles steal along the sides ; 

 Quick flashing thunders roar along the flood, 

 And three lie prostrate vomiting their blood ! 

 The fourth aloft on whistling pinions soared, 

 One fatal glance the fiery thunders poured, 

 Prone drops the bird amid the dashing waves, 

 And the clear stream his glossy plumage laves. 

 Now all around us rising trains appear, 

 AV ild whistling wings on every hand we hear ! 

 Th' alarm of death amid their legions spread, 

 In files immense they winnow overhead ; 

 Hoarse heavy geese scream up the distant sky, 

 And all the thunders of our boat defy ; 

 Close under rustling vines we skulking glide, 

 Till the loud uproar and alarm subside; 

 Here grapes delicious, clustering, hung around, 

 The mother vines through bending birches wound ; 

 Not richer ripen on Vesuvius* side, 

 Than here spontaneous nodded o'er the tide. 



