However, as some of them were desired for their beautiful feather-covered skins, which make most valuable and beautiful caps and muffs, it was decided that Souwanas and Kennedy should take the missionary’s breech-loading rifle, in addition to their own guns, and try to secure a few.

The children begged to be allowed to accompany them, and as the day was unusually fine and the lake almost without a ripple they were given a holiday and allowed the privilege of an all-day outing with these two trusty and experienced men.

A generous lunch, with the indispensable tea kettle, was placed in the canoe by careful Mary, who, as usual, was angry that the children were to be so long under the witchery of old Souwanas.

With the merry shouts of laughter from the children as their accompaniment the two Indians skillfully plied their paddles, and it was not long before they were some miles distant and on the lookout for loons.  It often happens that the things desired are the last to come.  So it was this day.  Wild ducks in goodly numbers, and even geese and some swans and pelicans were frequently seen.  At length, however, strange, mournful sounds far ahead were heard, and the experienced Indians knew that the birds for which they were looking were not far away.  Still it was some time before the first long white neck and black head were seen in the distance, for the cry of the loon not only differs from that of any other bird, but is very far-reaching.

The excited children were now told to be very still and keep quiet, using their eyes alone, and witness the contest between man’s skill and the birds’ cleverness.

So accustomed have some old loons become to being fired at and missed by Indians using the old-fashioned flintlock shotgun, which makes such a flash when fired, that they just barely keep out of range.  The instant they see the fire flash—­down they go, and then as the shot or bullet strikes the place where they were they bob up again serenely in the same spot, or in one not very far distant.  This risky sport some of them will keep up for hours, or until the disheartened hunters have wasted nearly all their ammunition.

To-day, however, there was to be a new weapon tried against them, and, alas for them, they were sadly worsted.  Kennedy first loaded his old flintlock shotgun and blazed away, but, as usual, they were out of sight under the water before the shot struck the place where the loons had been.

For a time the loons were shy, and swam quite a distance away.  But after a while, as they found that Kennedy’s gunshots could be dodged, they did not bother to swim very far away.  This was just what Souwanas was waiting for.  He now took up the rifle, and as soon as a loon came to the surface he fired from this new weapon, that gave no flash to warn the poor bird of the deadly bullet that was so rapidly speeding on its way.  Thus it happened that loon after loon was struck and several beautiful birds were secured—­greatly to the sorrow of the children, who delighted in watching their clever diving and sudden reappearance after Kennedy discharged his old gun.  Out of deference to their feelings the Indians soon ceased shooting, although with this new rifle they could easily have secured many more.