ertain that they never all dive together, some always remaining
above water, and apparently watching while the others are under.

A plan to get near them was necessary, and one was suggested by Norman,
which was to tie bushes around the sides of the canoe, so as to hide
both the vessel and those in it. This plan was at once adopted--the
canoe was paddled up to the bank--thick bushes were cut, and tied along
the gunwale; and then our voyageurs climbed in, and laying themselves as
low as possible, commenced paddling gently downward in the direction of
the ducks. The rifles were laid aside, as they could be of little
service with such game. Francois' double-barrel was the arm upon which
dependence was now placed; and Francois himself leaned forward in the
bow in order to be ready, while the others attended to the guidance of
the vessel. The buckshot had been drawn out, and a smaller kind
substituted. The swan was no longer cared for or even thought of.

In about a quarter of an hour's time, the canoe, gliding silently along
the edge of the sedge--which was the wild celery--came near the place
where the ducks were; and the boys, peeping through the leafy screen,
could now see the birds plainly. They saw that they were not all
canvass-backs, but that three distinct kinds of ducks were feeding
together. One sort was the canvass-backs themselves, and a second kind
very much resembled them, except that they were a size smaller. These
were the "red-heads" or "pochards."

The third species was different from either. They had also heads of a
reddish colour, but of a brighter red, and marked by a white band that
ran from the root of the bill over the crown. This mark enabled Lucien
at once to tell the species. They were widgeons; but the most singular
thing that was now observed by our voyageurs was the terms upon which
these three kinds of birds lived with each other. It appeared that the
widgeon obtained its food by a regular system of robbery and plunder
perpetrated upon the community of the canvass-backs. The latter, as
Lucien explained, feeds upon the roots of the valisneria; but for these
it is obliged to dive to the depth of four or five feet, and also to
spend some time at the bottom while plucking them up. Now the widgeon is
as fond of the "celery" as the canvass-back, but the former is not a
diver--in fact, never goes under water except when washing itself or in
play, and it has therefore no means of procuring the desire