After this, the old lady settles down to her usual morning avocations, until the island is within a hundred yards, or less, of the party. Then she gives us another and a longer look--her neck very straight and long, and her face at right angles to our advance--the one eye which is thus deputed to scan us looking concerned and agitated. "I'll tell you what it is, my dears," says she, "I don't like that island; the current is setting the other way, and yet we are nearer to it than we were. I'm off, for one!" and in the twinkling of an eye her black head has dipped beneath the surface; her white-flecked tail for an instant shows itself, then disappears, and Grandmother Duck is next seen fifty yards further away. Fortunately for us, her example is followed by one or two very old stagers only--perhaps they have seen this game played before; but the youngsters are not going to listen to the fears and fancies of the old fogies. What youngster ever did? Consequently, in another minute, judgment, swift and sure, has overtaken them. Four barrelsful of flame and lead belch out upon them as they float, two more as they rise, and seven or eight young unbelievers are lying dead upon the water, or endeavouring madly, broken winged and in touch with grim death, to dive out of range. All are picked up, by degrees. Meanwhile, the community is wheeling around over our heads high in air; they see us now, plainly enough, ensconced behind our pine-tree ambuscade, and are forming their own conclusions as to the morality of our proceedings. Having settled this point, and, we trust, complimented the old lady, their grandmother, upon her sagacity, they fly away, and are no more seen. They will exercise a wise caution with regard to islands henceforth. And so the day passes; with each duck community it is the same tale. There are a few wise ducks and many unwise, and the deck of our launch is strewn with the bodies of these latter; great northern divers--who look as though no foolishness could possibly, under any circumstances, find napping that stern wisdom which sits for ever in the expression of their most serious countenances--and divers and ducks of every sort and kind, and to which my unlearned pen can give no certain names. Some of these proved very delicious when they afterwards made their positively last appearance in public; some were very much the reverse, though that sporting skipper and the cannonading engineer (who once nearly blew my head off in the excitement of the chase!) liked them all equally well. And so ended what was, to me, a novel and delightful experience. It was one of many days to which my soul cries out "encore!" and cries in vain, for Destiny says, "Oh no! your cake is eaten! you must wait your chance at next baking day!" CHAPTER VI ABOUT BEARS: BY ONE OF THEM I