he watch without any
smallest vibration of the wings and without the smallest perceptible
descent. I used in boyhood to see bald eagles do the same for a
considerable period, though I never timed them exactly, and wonder at it
now as I did then.

Away now to another island, still seeking ducks. Arrived, the Canadians
land, in order, in Bradford's behalf, to have the first chance; while
the Judge and I, who pretend to no skill with the gun, remain awhile
behind. The island had the shape described in our first paper: a gentle
slope and rock-beach on one side,--a steep, broken, half-precipitous
descent on the other. Landing presently, I went slowly along the
slope,--slowly, for one's feet sank deep at every step in the elastic
moss, so that it was like walking on a feather-bed. Some patches of
shrubbery, two and a half or three feet high,--the first approach to
woody growth I had seen,--drew my attention; and it is curious now to
think what importance they had in my eyes, as if here were the promise
of a new world. I hastened towards them, forgetting the coveted ducks;
and the Canadian's gun, which sounded in the distance, did not reawaken
my ambition. Forgetting or remembering were probably much the same; for
I had scarcely fired a gun in twenty and odd years, never had taken a
bird on the wing, and, besides, must now fire from the left
shoulder,--the right eye being like Goldsmith's tea-cups, "wisely kept
for show." But as I touched the shrubbery there was a stir, a rustle, a
whirr, and away went a large brown bird, scurrying off toward the sea.
Upon the impulse of the moment, I up gun, and blazed after. To my
amazement, the bird fell. I stumped off for my prize, actually achieving
a sort of run, the first for years,--pretty sure, however, that the
creature was making game of me rather than I of it, and would rise and
flirt its tail in my face when I should be near enough to make the
mockery poignant. No, the poor thing's game was up. It was a large bird,
of an orange-brown hue, mottled with faint white and shadings of black.
A powerful relenting came over me, and I could have sat down and cried
like a baby, had that been suitable for a "boy" of my years.

"Do you know that was pretty well done?" cried a voice.

It was Bradford, who was hurrying up. I had no heart to answer; I was
not jolly.

"Why, it's a female eider," he said, when near; "you've shot an eider on
the wing!"

_O tempora! O mores!_ then the Elder wa