Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1896-06-04
IN THE QUICKSANDS.
BY n. IRVINE LYNDs.

fireplace in my friends study, telling
hunting experiences. The wind WAS
blowing outside with just enough force
to give the windows ghostly rattle,
and make the blaze roar up the Chin
ney in a way that lent an added charm
to stories into which the element of
danger largely entered.
We had all dutifully told some old
time adventure-withc certain additions
that seemed absolutely necessary un-
der the circumstances-all except our
host, who had been given the last place
on the list, so that the series might close
robed in the richest coloring. @
He was a hunter of wide and varied
experience and a man who had given
a great deal of intelligent thought to
the mysteries of woodcraft. Conse-
quently, whatever he said upon the sub
ject was always listened to with defer
ence. g.
We therefore settled down little
more comfortably in our chairs as he
began:
I'm my younger days I spent more
time in the woods than do now. Not
that like hunting less. 1t has as great
attraction for me as ever, the odor of
the woods is as sweet to me as the scent
of powder is to the old war horse; but
many things claim my time now and
keep me from wandering.
"The little adventure / am about to
tell happened in Nova Scotia, 20 years
ago, when was quite a young man.
ct is not generally known that GER
tain parts of the province contain some
of the finest hunting grounds magma
BILE. Miles and miles of virgin forest,
acres of spruce and pine averaging fully
60 feet in height, crowded together on
moss-green groundwork, almost close
enough to shut out daylight. Then
there are parts overrun with high
naples, birch and beech.
"Many a day have 1 crept through
the deep, shady glades and over the
long, sloping hills. But l am rather
wandering from my story.
"I'll just show you where my adven-
ture happened"
Raising, he took down an atlas from
a shelf.
Just here at the NORTH" he con-
tinued. "See that headland? That's
the place. Twice a day all the water
In the basin seems to rush around that
point, and away up into the mainland.
at is marsh land along there, and the
point is called Minudie marsh. 1t is a
very large tract of land, said to con-
tain 5000 acres, shut in from the sea by
nine miles of dyke. 1t is perfectly level,
dotted all over with barns and hay
stacks; and in the autumn also with
men and horses, busily at work cutting
broad leaf" or marsh hay.
Zone not acquainted with the place
could easily become lost, for the barns
and haystacks, extending in every di-
rection, are all alike in size, shape and
color. 1t was near this marsh that I
had located myself for the hunting sea-
son, on account of the excellent sport
which it afforded in the shape of almost
every kind of water fowl, and also be-
cause not many miles away were woods
in which moose and caribou were plen-
tiful.
''The autumn that year had been very
dry, so that there were, comparatively
speaking, no birds on the marsh. With
out knowing this, however, one day
set out for few hours shooting.
II tramped the best part of the aft
ernoon, without success, and, as did
not care to go home without bagging
something, l determined to shoot
peep ON the mud flats.
II rolled up my trousers to the knee
and started, sinking fully six inches in
the soft mud at every step. l walked
about for some time, getting a shot now
and then and wandering far out upon
the flats, until rushing noise behind
made me turn quickly around.
''The bore was coming-a bank Of
tumbling, seething water, quite three
feet high, tearing about as fast Us man
could run. Time to be getting back,
thought 1. 1t will not take long for the
tide to cover the flats 1 stood and
watched the tidal wave for q moment,
then started quite leisurely for the
dyke, shaping my course directly for
it.
after having gone so yards or so,
came to a gully, between eight and
ten feet wide, at the bottom of which
flowed a little stream. 1t ran nearly
parallel with the dyke, and in order to
reach the marsh had either to cross
it or go away up and around. Not car
ing to lengthen my disagreeable tramp
for it was no fun dragging ones feet
out of the mud at every step-I decided
to hold my original course. The sides
of the gully looked soft and treacher-
Gus, but by taking a running jump ]
thought l could clear the dangerous
part.
81 stepped back a few PAGES, and
firmly grasping the gun, started. had
miscalculated the effect the bad footing
would have, and saw my mistake the
moment / sprang; but too late!
II landed on the other side of the
stream, in what seemed to me the soft.
est part of the mud. My weight and
the impetus of my jump drove me into
the mud knee-deep.
SAT first l was inclined to laugh a
my plight, but that feeling speedily
pave vav IN ono of apyiatv ubaD I 20 |