"
"Well, you see, I carn't go to-day--for Squire Breawn, and Dan Faushea,
and a whole grist of Goshen boys is comin' over to the island here to
fish; but you carn't well go wrong."
"Why not; are birds plenty?"
"Well! I guess they be! Plentier than ever yet I see them here."
"By Jove! that's good news," Harry answered; "where shall we find the
first?"
"Why, amost anywheres--but here, jist down by the first bridge, there's
a hull heap--leastwise there was a Friday--and then you'd best go on to
the second bridge, and keep the edge of the hill right up and down to
Merrit's Island; and then beat down here home to the first bridge again.
But won't you liquor?"
"No, not this morning, John; we did our liquoring last night. Tom, do
you hear what John says?"
"I hear, I hear," growled out old Tom; "but the critter lies like
nauthen. He always does lie, cuss him."
"Well, here goes, and we'll soon see!"
And away we went again, spinning down a little descent, to a flat space
between the hill-foot and the river, having a thick tangled swamp on the
right, and a small boggy meadow full of grass, breast-high, with a thin
open alder grove beyond it on the left.
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