Now, good Reader, Spring has once more gladdened the face of Nature, pearly drops hang on every leaf, glistening in the bright sunshine, and thousands of gay insects flutter around. My light canoe is ready. Leap in, seat yourself snugly in the bow, and sit still while I paddle you to the green islands of this beautiful lake, where we shall probably find a Merganser or two, perhaps a female sitting on her eggs. As to the dog, we need him not; so lie thee down, Baron, until I return. I was always fond of “paddling my own canoe,” and I never met with a single accident so long as I managed it myself; but on more occasions than one I have been turned out as gently as one turns himself in bed, and having put the frail bark to rights, have assisted the awkward fellow who had caused the disaster, dived for his gun and my own, and conducted him to the camp to dry his garments. Therefore, be quiet, and fear nothing. See! what’s that? Nothing, friend, but the head of a musk-rat. But look there, how swiftly swims that beautiful Loon! Heed him not; have I not already told you all that I know about him? How smooth and silvery are the pure waters, how beautiful those tall trees! The dogwood is in full bloom, so are the maples, whose rich red blossoms cluster on the twigs. Here we are just entering the rushes of this little island. Get out, and wade to the shore with all possible gentleness; or allow me to do so; for to lighten our slight bark, one of us must get into the water. Softly we advance as I pull the canoe by the bow; but now, squat, for here are tracks of the Goosander. There now lies the female close before us. She thinks we have not seen her, for she crouches closer upon her eggs. Alarm her not, or she will soon depart. There she croaks, and scrambling off through the tall grass, flies off on rapid wings. Look at the nest! count the eggs if you choose, but allow me, if you please, to describe them.