oft dip of the paddle, and an occasional breath of effort from the
paddler broke the stillness. The motion forward was slow; for the back
suction in the shallow, narrow channel, which they almost immediately
entered, stopped the boat at the end of each paddle stroke. Bobby was
vaguely aware of high reeds or low banks on either side; but he could
not see ten feet ahead, and he wondered how Mr. Kincaid could tell
where to go. Shortly the latter put aside his paddle in favour of the
punting pole. Bobby, stealing a glance over his shoulder, saw him
standing against the sky.

From right and left, in mysterious side lagoons and pockets, came the
low quacking and chattering of wildfowl, now close at hand. They were,
of course, quite invisible; but their proximity was exciting. Twice the
duck-boat approached so close as to alarm them into flight. They arose,
then, with a mighty quacking. Bobby could see the silver of broken water
where they took wing; but although there seemed to be enough light
against the sky, he could not make out the birds themselves. He clasped
his rifle close, and shivered with delight, and patted Curly to relieve
his feelings.

For a long time, and for a tremendous distance as it seemed to Bobby
they crept along through the lagoons and channels of the marshes. The
dawn had not come yet, but the air was getting grayer in anticipation of
it, and the wind began to blow faintly from the direction of the Lake.
Bobby could see the shapes of the grasses and cat-tails, and make out
the bodies of water through which they passed. Almost he could catch the
flight of ducks as they leaped; and quite distinctly he saw a flash of
teal that passed with a startling rush of wings within a dozen feet of
the boat.

And then deliberately the whole universe turned faintly gray, and the
smaller stars faded in the lucence of dawn, and the brief, weird world
of half-light came into being. At the same moment, Mr. Kincaid turned
the boat to the left, forced it by main strength through a thick fringe
of reeds, and debouched on a little round pond silvering in the dawn.

The crackling of the duck-boat through the reeds was answered by a roar
like the breaking of a great wave. Bobby saw very dimly the rise of
hundreds of ducks straight up into the air. The roar of the first leap
was immediately succeeded by the whistling of flight.

"My!" breathed Bobby to Curly, "My! My! My!"

But a second roar thundered, as a second and large