been safe, scuttled into the tall grasses.

Here was the chance for fresh meat without the expenditure of a shot.
Sam Bolton promptly disembarked. To us it would have seemed a simple
matter. But the black duck is an expert at concealment, even in the
open. He can do wonders at it when assisted by the shadows of long
grass. And when too closely approached he can glide away to right and
left like a snake, leaving no rustle to betray his passage. Five minutes
passed before the first was discovered. Then it was only because Dick's
keen eye had detected a faintly stirring grass-blade ten feet away, and
because Dick's quick muscles had brought him like a tiger to the spot.
He held up his victim by the neck.

"Good enough," growled Sam.

And although they had seen nine ducks go into the grass plot, which was
not more than fifty feet across, they succeeded in finding but three.
However, they were satisfied.

In spite of the deliberation of their journeying, the Indians did not
overtake them until nearly dark. It was just above the junction of the
Abítibi. The river was without current, the atmosphere without the
suspicion of a breeze. Down to the very water's edge grew the forest,
so velvet-dark that one could not have guessed where the shadow left off
and the reflection began. Not a ripple disturbed the peace of the water,
nor a harsh sound the twilight peace of the air. Sam and Dick had
paddled for some time close to one bank, and now had paused to enjoy
their pipes and the cool of the evening. Suddenly against the reflected
sky at the lower bend a canoe loomed into sight, and crept smoothly and
noiselessly under the forest shadow of the opposite bank. Another