uld see the branches bend and sway beneath his
weight.

"I'll have him now," muttered Rod, poking the muzzle of his rifle out
through the boughs. "You take the bear. Ready! now!"

We blazed away. With a wild shriek the eagle came tumbling down
through the hemlock. Rod ran out towards him, and I made up to the
bear. Old Bruin was merely wounded--an ugly flesh wound; and not
knowing whence it came, he had flown at the dead lynx,--for such it
turned out to be,--and was giving him another hugging. Seeing me, he
started up, to rectify his mistake, probably; but I had put in another
charge, and instantly gave him a quietus. Just then Rod came up,
dragging the eagle.

"Never saw one like it," exclaimed he. "I mean to take it down to
Greenville."

After skinning the bear and the lynx, we gathered up the traps, and
went down to our camp. Together with the spoils of the moose, we had
now a full canoe load, and stowing them in, went down the river that
afternoon. Two days after, we arrived at Greenville, at the foot of
Moosehead Lake. There we fell in with a party of tourists--from
Boston, I believe. They pronounced Rod's "big bird" to be a golden
eagle.

C. A. STEPHENS.

WORSHIP OF NATURE.

The green earth sends her incense up
From many a mountain shrine;
From folded leaf and dewy cup,
She pours her sacred wine.

The mists above the morning rills
Rise white as wings of prayer;
The altar curtains of the hills
Are sunset's purple air.

A HUNTING ADVENTURE.

Tired of the heat and confusion of the city, my friend Clarke and I
left New York one fine morning for a hunting excursion on the
prairies.

At Galena, on the Mississippi, we went aboard a steamer which conveyed
us to St. Paul. Here we fitted out for the trip, and finally, at Sauk
Rapids set our foot for the first time on the prairie.

From the Mississippi, at Sauk Rapids, we struck about north-west
across the prairie for Fort Garry, a Hudson Bay Company's fort, at the
junction of the Assiniboine and Red River, where we replenished some
of our stores; and thence we travelled through the Sioux, or Da-ko-tah
country, until we reached Turtle Mountain.

Our party consisted of Clarke and myself, two French Canadians, whom
we had engaged at St. Paul, and a half-breed, whom we had met on the
frontier before reaching Fort Garry.

One evening, before camping at the