weather was favourable, and Cross-Eye, the half-breed, who got the
name from his eyes being on the bias, promised them plenty of ducks.
They paddled up the lake for several miles until they came to a kind of
enclosed bay, whose shores were lined with a thick growth of underbrush.

'In there we go,' said Cross-Eye, in his queer guttural tone, and the
canoe was directed to a good landing-place. 'Hide him,' grunted the
half-breed, and the light craft was lifted out of the water, and
concealed among the trees.

They next proceeded to put themselves out of sight, there to patiently
wait the appearance of the ducks. Mr. Macrae and Cross-Eye settled
down comfortably. Not so Hector. He had absolutely nothing to do but
search the sky for the black specks that would grow into the toothsome
birds they sought, and, as none of these were visible, he naturally
grew restless. He fired questions at Cross-Eye, in spite of the
taciturn half-breed's surly responses, and he bothered his father with
proposals to do this or that, none of which were approved.

At last he gave a cry of delight, at the same moment that Cross-Eye
grunted in a relieved way. Far to the west, a thin black line showed
faintly above the horizon, and rapidly grew more distinct. The ducks
were coming at last.

Crouching close to the ground, and hardly breathing in their
excitement, the three hunters awaited their approach. When the orderly
array of winged _voyageurs_ had come within reach of the sound,
Cross-Eye proceeded to imitate their cries with a marvellous fidelity.

Hector was amazed at the sounds which issued from him. They were so
perfectly bird-like.

Instead of flying over, the ducks hesitated, returned the cries that
attracted their attention, and then, with much flapping of wings,
dropped down upon the still surface of the little bay, right in front
of their hidden enemy. The moment they were well within range, at a
signal from Cross-Eye, the report of two guns rang out like one, and
two ducks gave their last quack.

With wonderful quickness the half-breed had the canoe launched, but
Hector was no less quick in springing into it, and off they went after
the birds. A few powerful strokes brought them to where they lay upon
the water.

'You get them,' grunted Cross-Eye, as he held the canoe steady, and
Hector leaned over the side to pick up the ducks. It was not a
difficult thing to do, but the sudden excitement after the wearisome
wai