it with a club as it came to the surface. The victory was not to the
duck. Late that evening Steve and Jacob were seen carrying from the
landing to the house the dead B. P., strung by the neck to the centre
of a ten-foot pole, one pall-bearer at each end, and the conqueror
leading the procession. On his arrival he was greeted by his fellow
members with that distinguished consideration which our people so
freely accord to actors of great deeds.

We remained on the beach four weeks, and had many pleasant days. We
have now returned to our respective homes, wearied in body but
refreshed in mind, well pleased with our trip, with each other, and
with a decided inclination for a repetition of the jaunt.

[Illustration: JOE CREED.]

We cannot leave the subject without paying tribute to our friend and
companion, Joe Creed. Joe is a large resolute dog of an amiable
disposition, a dirty yellow coat, and a small bright eye of the same
color. He has a keen sense of duty, but never leaves the blind until
he sees the game falling, when he proceeds to bring it in. He was
undoubtedly born for it. If two birds fall, with almost human
intelligence he gets both. Taking the farthest first, stopping on his
way in to pick up the other, he comes in with one swinging on each
side of his great shaggy head. They tell of him that he has been
caught stealing sheep. We do not believe it--it is a mistake; he may
have been in bad company, that is all. Joe was the property of a
gentleman on Long Island, and we trusted his exploits in the North
might vie with his achievements in the South.

"When some proud son of man returns to earth,