"Hope began to return. I counted my bullets, and held my horn up to the sun. There were over twenty bullets, and powder sufficient. I counted the peccaries. Sixteen still lived, with three that I had done for. "I again loaded and fired--loaded and fired--loaded and fired. I aimed so carefully each time, that out of all I missed only one shot. "When the firing ceased, I dropped down from my perch in the midst of a scene that resembled a great slaughter-yard. Nineteen of the creatures lay dead around the tree, and the ground was saturated with their blood! "The voice of my friend at this moment sounded in my ears, and turning, I beheld him standing, with hands uplifted and eyes as large as saucers. "The `feat' was soon reported through the settlement, and I was looked upon for the time as the greatest hunter in the `Trinity Bottom.'" CHAPTER SIXTEEN. A DUCK-SHOOTING ADVENTURE. During our next day's journey we again fell in with flocks of the wild pigeon, and our stock was renewed. We were very glad of this, as we were getting tired of the dry salt bacon, and another "pot-pie" from Lanty's _cuisine_ was quite welcome. The subject of the pigeons was exhausted, and we talked no more about them. Ducks were upon the table in a double sense, for during the march we had fallen in with a brood of the beautiful little summer ducks (_Anas sponsa_), and had succeeded in shooting several of them. These little creatures, however, did not occupy our attention, but the far more celebrated species known as the "canvas-back" (_Anas vallisneria_). Of the two dozen species of American wild-ducks, none has a wider celebrity than that known as the canvas-back; even the eider-duck is less thought of, as the Americans care little for beds of down. But the juicy, fine-flavoured flesh of the canvas-back is esteemed by all classes of people; and epicures prize it above that of all other winged creatures, with the exception, perhaps, of the reed-bird or rice-hunting, and the prairie-hen. These last enjoy a celebrity almost if not altogether equal. The prairie-hen, however, is the _bon morceau_ of western epicures; while the canvas-back is only to be found in the great cities of the Atlantic. The reed-bird--in the West Indies called "ortolan"--is also found in the same markets with the canvas-back. The flesh of all three of these birds--although the birds themselves are of widely-different families--is really of the most delicious kind; it would be hard to say which of them is the greatest favourite. The canvas-back is not a large duck, rarely exceeding three pounds in weight. Its colour is very similar to the pochard of Europe: its head is a uniform deep chestnut, its breast black; while the back and upper parts of the wings present a surface of bluish-grey, so lined and mottled as to resemble--though very slightly--the texture of canvas: hence the trivial name of the bird.