can be procured. They are all
migratory--that is, when the lakes and rivers of these regions become
frozen over in the winter they all migrate southward, but return again
to breed and spend the summer. They do this, perhaps, because these
wild territories afford them a better security during the season of
incubation, and afterwards of moulting. It is not very certain,
however, that this is the reason, and for my part I am inclined to think
not, for there are also wild, uninhabited territories enough in southern
latitudes, and yet they forsake these and migrate north in the spring.
`Their arrival in the fur countries,' writes a distinguished naturalist,
`marks the commencement of spring, and diffuses as much joy among the
wandering hunters of the Arctic regions, as the harvest or vintage
excites in more genial climes.' Both by the Indians and hunters in the
employ of the Hudson's Bay Company swans, geese, and ducks, are
slaughtered by thousands, and are eaten not only when fresh killed, but
they are salted in large quantities, and so preserved for winter use,
when fresh ones can no longer be procured. Of course, both Indian and
white hunters use all their art in killing or capturing them; and to
effect this they employ many different methods, as decoying, snaring,
netting, and shooting them: but Cousin Norman here could give a better
description of all these things than I. Perhaps he will favour us with
some account of them."

"The Indians," said the young trader, taking up the subject without
hesitation, "usually snare them. Their most common way is to make a
number of hedges or wattle fences projecting into the water at right
angles to the edge of the lake, or, it may be, river. These fences are
two or three yards apart, and between each two there is, of course, an
opening, into which the birds swim, as they make towards the shore for
their food. In these openings, then, the snares are set and tied so
firmly to a post stuck in the bottom, that the birds, whether ducks,
geese, or swans, when caught, may not be able to drag it away. To keep
the snare in its place, it is secured to the wattles of the fence with
tender strands of grass, that of course give way the moment the fowl
becomes entangled. The snares are made out of deer sinews, twisted like
packthread, and sometimes of thongs cut from a `parchment' deerskin,
which, as you know, is a deerskin simply dried, and not tanned or
dressed. The making of the f