shy, and flew from one part of the marsh to another. We procured with great difficulty two, which proved to be barren females.
To give you an idea of the difficulties we had occasionally to encounter, in our endeavours to procure such birds as breed in that country, it will suffice to say, that one of us was so mired in the flat just mentioned, that it was with extreme difficulty another of us succeeded in extricating him, to the great danger of being himself swamped, in which case we must all have perished, had no aid arrived. We were completely smeared with black mud, and so fatigued, that when we returned, we found it impossible to proceed more than a few yards before we were forced to sit down on the dangerous sward, which at every step shook for a considerable space around, so that we were obliged to keep at a distance from each other, and move many yards apart, constantly fearing that the least increase of weight would have burst the thin layer that supported us, and sent us in to a depth from which we could not have been extricated. But once out of the bog, we were delighted with the success of our enterprise, and as we refreshed ourselves from our scanty stores, when we had reach- ed the rocky shores of the sea, we laughed heartily at what had happened, although only a few hours before it was considered a most serious accident.
As I am speaking of fowling in Labrador, allow me to relate an incident connected with the Willow Grous. Among our crew was a sailor, who was somewhat of a Avag. He was a "• man-of-war's-man," and had seen a good deal of service in our navy, an expert sailor, perhaps the best diver I have seen, always willing to work hard, and always full of fun. This sailor and another had the rowing of our gig on an excursion after Grous and other wild birds. Thomas Lincoln and my son John Woodhouse, managed the boat. The gig having landed on the main, the sailors, who had guns, went one way, and the young travellers another. They all returned, as was previously agreed upon, at the same hour, and produced the birds which they had procured. The sailor had none, and was laughed at. While rowing towards the Ripley, we heard the cries of birds as if in the air; the rowing ceased, but nothing could be seen, and we proceeded. Again the sounds of birds were distinctly heard, but again none could be seen, and what seemed strange was, that they were heard only at each pull of the oars. The young men taxed the tar with producing the noises, as they saw him as if employed in doing so with his mouth ; however, the thing still remained a mystery. Sometime after
