
CT. 26, 1907.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
649 


rs and go to the postoffice for my gun and 
“Be sure and tell them that the gentleman’s 
officer from Halifax, and that we're going to 
laway three weeks at least,” were his final 
ructions as the boy went off. Then he with- 
lw to make his preparations for the trip. I 
plenty of provisions, so he merely took half 
jushel of potatoes, a couple of loaves of bread 
| some pork. He also indulged in a shave 
| put on a clean shirt—he afterward explained 
ne that the shave and the shirt were invari- 
: concomitants to a hunting trip with any 
\‘the quality.” 
had brought a small tent, a camp stove, a 
lping bag and provisions for a week’s trip 
[two men. These, together with my gun and 
ridges, were quite a load. I had half a dozen 
apsable canvas decoys, and a duck call; also 
le tin plover and yellowleg decoys. 
f you'd known everything, you couldn’t have 
it off better,” observed Patrick, as he looked 
ie tent and decoys. “I had a nice camp half 
between the harbor and Parbuckle Lake, 
over a dozen good wooden decoys there, but 
spring there was a falling out between us on 
and them on the west, and the 
9 got burnt. I always blamed my cousin 
jr for it, but I couldn’t get no proof. Now 
an pitch this tent midway between the lake 
the shore, and if it’s good toling to-night 
lrt will tole for us, and if it isn’t, you can 
\the decoys in the lake and I'll call for you. 
: gun of yours is too small, but you can use 
|| if you want to.” 
lw, my gun was a I2-gauge ejector by one 
lle best makers in America. Mr. O’Learey’s 
/a single barrel, bottom-grip 10-gauge, made 
\elgium, weighing nine pounds, and with a 
|-inch barrel. Pinkham and Patrick stowed 
dunnage in a boat while I conversed with 
| O’Learey. Presently, Patrick went to the 
| and emerged in a few minutes’ time, bear- 
a small bark canoe on his shoulders, and 
wed by the most evil looking mongrel mor- 
yes ever beheld. The brute bore some re- 
lance to a dachshund, only he was longer 
le legs. His wooly coat was a mixture of 
, yellow and green; his ears and the shape 
]s head and jaw were suggestive of a mon- 
|bull terrier. His imperfectly abbreviated 
vas carried almost perpendicularly to his 
From this I inferred that he had very 
with the dog whip or its 

east side 
| acquaintance 
jalent. 
liere, sir, that’s the dog you cured; the best 
¢ dog in all Canada. He ain’t much to look 
lit he’s a beauty to work. You wait till 
ize him. Now, I'll take the canoe and paddle 
» through the ledges. Pinkham will row 
}own in the boat, and by the time you are 
1 landing I’ll have canoe and tent half way 
1 lake.” 
jvas between four and five that afternoon 
j we got the tent pitched, the floor brushed 
and the night’s wood cut. Pinkham landed 
d the dunnage, and went home in the boat. 
‘d sunset we went to Parbuckle Lake and 
it a few canvas decoys. Patrick called, 
a duck call of his own manufacture. Only 
tle bunch of birds came in, and I stopped 
arest one. 
n as he struck the water, but he dived and 
jidered him a lost bird. When it became 
rk to shoot we returned to camp. As we 
dleaving the blind O’Learey casually re- 
! 
| 
I fired my left barrel at him~ 
marked to the dog, “You go ketch that duck, 
The mongrel 
the 
Gelert, and bring him into camp.” 
the bushes and we 
Long after 
waddled off into took 
homeward trail. 
was preparing to turn in, I heard a scratching 
at the canvas. I opened the tent and 
Gelert was there with a very much bedraggled 
just) ase. 
supper, 
do¢ ir 
black duck in his mouth. The bird was still 
alive. 
“He just laid low for a while, and then 
traveled round the lake until he found where 
the duck came to land, took his trail and picked 
him up, and here he is. A black duck’s a mighty 
queer bird. You wound him and start to follow 
him in a boat, and down he goes. That’s the 
last you ever see of him unless he’s dying. Some 
folks say he clinches his toes on the rocks, and 
holds on until he drowns. Now, you ‘down him’ 
and let him make his dive and leave him alone. 
Presently he feels his broken wing dragging after 
him in the water, and he concludes he’d be more 
comfortable on land. He lands and makes tracks 
for some place where he can rest comfortable- 
like. By and by the bird dog, 
nosing and smelling along the edge of the lake. 
He knows what he’s after; strikes the duck’s 
scent, follows it, and in a little time he has Mr. 
Black Duck, and brings him into the camp. 
There's toling dogs and toling dogs. Some can 
tole all right, but they ain’t the least good to 
pick up a bird, and there’s dogs that’s dandies 
to retrieve that can’t tole worth a continental. 
Gelert toles like an angel, and he’s the devil 
himself to retrieve.” 
Early next morning we went out again, but 
the fates were against us. I killed one duck and 
a couple of yellowlegs. We saw innumerable 
flocks of black ducks, but they were flying high 
and paid no attention to the call or the decoys. 
During the day we lay in camp, and Patrick en- 
along comes 
tertained me with an account of the feud now 
raging between the east siders and the west 
siders. It was a feud complicated by the 
vagaries of rams allowed to run at large at un- 
seasonable times; breechy steers, vagrant geese 
sheep killing. 
and Irish pug- 
Being a 
part in 
and vagabon1 curs suspected of 
A substratumi of female jealcusy 
nacity ran through the whole story. 
“peaceable man” Patrick had taken no 
the feud until he found himself forced to fight 
or leave Parbuckle Cove. 
In the evening we went down to the shore, but 
the wind was in the wrong quarter and the tide 
was too low. I got a couple of shcts at lone 
birds as they came overhead, and managed to 
bag one of them. I must own that I felt a little 
discouraged. I had spent two whole days in the 
place, and my bag consisted of three ducks and 
two yellowlegs. All the same I had no ambition 
to make a phenomenal bag. All this the 
toling dog lay round the camp and searched for 
fleas or shivered in the blinds. 
The third morning dawned, and 
a change of wind. Long before daylight Patrick 
left the camp and busied himself in the repair- 
ing of the big blind at Parbuckle Lake. I fol- 
lowed him at sunrise. The canvas decoys were 
all taken in, and Patrick and the dog were 
crouched in the blind when I reached the shore. 
It was a dirty drizzly morning and the little wind 
there was blew across the lake in our faces. I 
hadn’t been in the blind ten minutes when a 
flock of ten or fifteen ducks came over our heads. 
They were just out of shot, their necks were 
extended, their wings almost motionless as they 
time 
there was 
skimmed through the air and lighted in the lee 
of a point of land five hundred yards away. The 
dog cocked one ear as they passed overhead. 
Patrick waited a few minutes until they had 
established themselves, then he remarked, “Gelert, 
you git out and tole them ducks.” 
The cur the 
the blind and emerged again on the shore a hun- 
Then he apparently 
slunk away into bushes behind 
dred vards to our right. 
commenced to chase his own tail. I was watch- 
the birds through my glasses. Presently one 
seated on a 
ing 
of them, which was 
the dog’s antics, stretched his neck and slid into 
the water. The dog ran down the shore toward 
us, dodging into the bushes now and again, roll- 
r¢ ck, noticed 
on his back, jumping up and down, but mak- 
ing 
ing no noise at all. Presently he reached the 
blind, ran into it, and lay down for a few 
moments. A dozen or more black ducks were 
swimming toward us; a little knot of three or 
four birds passing overhead, noticed them, 
wheeled in their flight and joined them. 
Again the cur left the blind. This time he 
traveled to the left, working his way back to 
the blind with the same tactics he had previously 
used. By the time he rejoined us the nearest 
ducks were not more than a hundred yards off. 
Patrick’s long gun barrel was trained on them 
through a loophole, but the gun was not cocked. 
Then the toling dog dodged down a little run- 
way formed of stones, driftwood and brush, and 
commenced to chase his tail again. About all 
the ducks could see of him were his ears, part 
of his back, and the six-inch stump of a tail. 
The birds drew nearer and nearer. Presently 
the dog ceased his antics, turned toward the 
blind and stood looking at us, with his tail 
switching from side to side and his mouth liter- 
ally watering. 
The birds were well within range. 
Patrick on the shoulder and signed to him to 
At the click of the lock the birds 
heads, the toling dog dropped flat 
and as the 10-gauge went off with 
I jumped to my feet 
I touched 
cock and fire. 
their 
on his belly, 
raised 
small cannon, 
two birds which were rising from 
cut them both over, killing the first 
a roar like a 
and fired at 
the water. I 
one stone dead, and crippling the second one 
so badly that I had no difficulty in turning him 

belly upward when I reloaded my gun. Gelert 
lay as still as a stone. We fired two or three 
more shots at cripples, and in a few minutes 
eight ducks drifted ashore. As each one touched 
the beach, the dog picked it up and carried it 
into the blind. 
“Why didn’t 
water? I got six to 
all at one shot,’ said Patrick when the toling 
ducks on the 
and got them 
you take them 
your two, 
dog had landed the last bird and lay shivering 
at our feet. 
“I'd about as soon shoot at a lot of black 
bottles thrown into the lake as fire into a flock 
of sitting black ducks,’ I replied. “If I was 
short of grub I’d shoot them any way I could 
get them, but we have all the grub we want, 
and as long as I get the chance to shoot a few 
of them on the wing you’re welcome to take them 
on the water every time.” 
In reply Patrick grinned a most comprehen- 
sive grin, held out his hand, and replied, “Shake. 
If everyone who comes to these parts shooting 
ducks looked at the thing that way, we’d have 
more ducks, more sport and better times all 
round. I kill all the ducks I can. I’m a poor 
man, and every pair I send to market means 

