The Coconino weekly sun., 1896-06-04
IN THE QUICKSANDs.
BY H. IRVINE LYNDs.

to give the windows a ghostly rattle, and make the blaze roar up the chim- ney in 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-with 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 hunter of wide and varied experience and q 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.
 We therefore settled down little more comfortably in our chairs as he began:
 Tn my younger days I spent more time in the woods than I do now. Not that like hunting less. It 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 I am about to tell happened in Nova Scotia, 20 years ago, when was quite young man.
 Tt is not generally known that cer- tain parts of the province contain some of the finest hunting grounds imagina- ble. Miles and miles of virgin forest. acres of spruce and pine averaging fully GO 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 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.
 "It is marsh land along there, and the point is called Minudie marsh. It is very large tract of land, said to con- tain 5000 acres, shut in from the sea by nine miles of dyke. It 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.
 "One not acquainted with the place could easily become lost, for the barns and haystacks, extending in every di- rection, are ail alike in size, shape and color. It 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, l one day set out for q few hours shooting.
 T 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.
 q rolled up my trousers to the knee and started. sinking fully six inches ir the soft mud at every step. walked about for some time. getting 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 ns man could run. Time to be getting back, thought I. It will not take long for the tide to cover the flats l stood and watched the tidal wave for a moment, then started quite leisurely for the dyke, shaping my course directly for it.
 After having gone 50 yards or so, I came to a gully, between eight and ten feet wide, at the bottom of which flowed little stream. It 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 flor 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- ous, but by taking running jump I thought l could clear the dangerous part.
 "I stepped back a few paces, and, firmly grasping the gun, started. had miscalculated the effect the bad footing would have, and saw my mistake the moment l sprang; but too late!
 "I 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.
 At first l was inclined to laugh at my plight. but that feeling speedily <1 oT snx,