Three Boys in the Wild North Land

by Egerton Ryerson Young

As several of these loons were seen swimming in Play Green Lake as our party paddled along, Mr Ross decided to give the boys a chance to show their skill and quickness in firing at them, although he hardly imagined any of them would be struck. The sportsman who would strike them must have an alert eye and quick aim to fire the instant they are up, as they are down again so suddenly, only to reappear again some hundreds of yards off in the most unexpected place.

The three canoes were paddled to positions about a third of a mile apart, like as at the points of an equilateral triangle. In this large space thus inclosed several loons were surrounded, and the work of trying to shoot them began. Before beginning to fire, the boys had been warned never under any circumstance to pull a trigger if one of the other boats should be in line, no matter how distant. Bullets even from an ordinary shotgun will sometimes so bound over the waves as to go an immense distance, and very serious injuries have resulted. As has been stated, it is almost impossible to kill a loon even when struck with ordinary shot, so it was decided here to use either buckshot or bullets as the hunters preferred.

Part of the fun of loon hunting is in the absolute uncertainty as to the spot where the bird, after diving, will next show itself. It may appear a quarter of a mile away, or it may suddenly push up its bright head and look at you out of its brilliant eyes not five yards from the side of your canoe. It has, when hunted, a certain dogged stubbornness against leaving the vicinity it was in when first assailed, and will remain in a small area, even of a large lake, although repeatedly fired at.

Hardly had the canoe in which were Mr Ross and Frank with their two canoemen taken its position, when a beautiful loon rose up about a hundred yards away, and not having been frightened, as no gun had as yet been fired, he sat there in all his beauty on the water watching them.

“Fire at him,” said Mr Ross to Frank.

No sooner said than done, and away sped the bullet well and true on its errand, and fairly and squarely hit the water exactly where the bird had been, but no bird was there. Quicker than could that bullet speed across those hundred yards the bird had dived, and ere Frank could recover from his chagrin its brilliant eyes were looking at him from a spot not twenty yards away. The loon had been facing the canoe when fired at, and in diving had come on in a straight line toward them, and now here he was, so close to them and looking so intently that he seemed to say by his appearance, “I’ve come to see what all that noise was about.”

So sudden was his appearance that no one in the canoe was ready for him, and ere a gun could be pointed he was down again and, swimming directly under the boat, rose again on the other side, more than a hundred yards away. While this had been Frank’s experience, the others had not been idle. As was quite natural, there was a good deal of good-natured rivalry among them as to which canoe would come the honour of killing the first loon. Mustagan, who had charge of one of these canoes, was an old hand at this work, and, as he was a keen hunter, had caught this spirit of rivalry that had arisen. He determined to put his long experience with these birds against their cleverness, and it was interesting to watch the contest between him and them. For a time his efforts met with complete failure, and the birds fairly outwitted him.

Mustagan, however, was not discouraged, and he resolved on one more effort to succeed. He had learned from observation that the loon with its marvellously brilliant eye seemed to be able to see the flash of the gun, and so quick were its movements that it could dive ere the bullets or other missiles reached it. Acting on this knowledge, he rigged up in the canoe a kind of a barrier behind which Sam was seated, concealed from the sharp-sighted bird. For a time they were not able to get a successful shot, although a great deal of ammunition was expended.

Alec, with Big Tom and his other Indian canoeman, was equally unsuccessful. The loons themselves seemed to have entered into the spirit of the thing, and kept bobbing up here and there, at most unexpected places, taking good care, however, that each time the bullets struck the spot where they were, they were somewhere else when it arrived. It was at first strange to the boys that the bullets did not follow them in the water, but went bounding off and skipping over the surface often for great distances.

At length, when Mr Ross began to fear that the ammunition had suffered enough, and the boys had had sufficient of this kind of shooting, which, after all, was a most capital drill at quick firing, and was about to stop the sport, Mustagan pleaded for time to try one more experiment. He had been watching the movements of a splendid loon, that had saucily and successfully challenged the guns from each boat in succession for quite a time. Mustagan’s quick eye noticed that the bird was not quite so vigilant as he had been, and resolved that he could be shot, and that Sam should have that honour. Strange as it may seem to those who have not had the fun of trying to shoot loons, these birds get to know that the hunters they are to watch are those who handle the guns. Knowing this, Mustagan had Sam well load his gun with buckshot and slugs. Swinging the canoe so that Sam would be completely hid by the barrier prepared, he with his gun rose up in a conspicuous manner flourishing his weapon, and thus kept the eyes of the bird on himself every time he arose. This went on for some minutes, until at length, as Mustagan did not fire, although brandishing his gun about, the loon seemed to lose his caution, and remained up longer each time he came to the surface.