So we stepped quietly but boldly into the water. It came to the ankles, the calves, the knees. Then we were through the reeds and the lake lay before us, dim and misty, like a sheet of frosted glass. "We'll wait here. If we're lucky they'll come our way." Out of the air came a rushing. Great wings beat almost upon our heads. But they came and were gone before we knew it. "Just a couple of strays beating around the lake," I explained. "We'll wait for the waders." Presently, and without notice save the soft splashing of water, they came wading down the shallows close to where we stood, their great bodies dim and dark against the frosted glass; their long necks stretched high, or grubbing in the reeds beside them. One--two--three--four--five--six; on they came. "Take the first two; I'll take the next." Our guns came to our shoulders in the darkness; we looked, rather than sighted, at the great birds scarce a rod away; then--right barrel!--left barrel!--we woke the echoes of the lake and filled the air with tempestuous noises. From every side came the splash of water and the rush of wings. The stillness, the gentleness of the night in a moment became the wildest babel of confusion. But we had no thought for that. Splashing right before us were great forms; flapping, struggling, eddying about. I would have held Jean back but she rushed ahead of me into the melee. She had one by the neck; the lust of killing was upon her; it was a fight to a finish. . . . Afterwards we dragged them out--three of them. Jean declared there had been another, but he managed to hide himself in the rushes. Then we built a fire beside the willow and warmed ourselves. * * * * * Before the water was warm enough for bathing I sent to Regina for a bathing suit. "The gaudiest thing you have," I said, and they took me at my word. It was a great day when I made my appearance in it. In the evenings, after a day of dust in the fields, we revelled in the cool waters of our pond. Jean would race me from end to end, but she was much too good a swimmer for me. * * * * *