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Updated: June 16, 2025
They made for themselves soft beds of the tender willow twigs, and in a mild atmosphere, beneath a starlit sky, slept soundly till morning. The voices of millions of waterfowl, around them, did not disturb their slumbers. Marches and Battles. Entering the Lake. Dangerous Navigation. The Return to Camp. Feast upon Horse Flesh. Meeting the Indians. Joyful Meeting. Return to Fort Hall.
Six P.M. We are to try a channel, such as it is, to-morrow morning. I landed for a walk. Wade took a gun with him. We saw quantities of waterfowl of all kinds. The plain on the left bank of the river is bounded on the other side by a pretty lake. The plain is subject to inundations, and seems to be covered by a bed of sand of about five feet in thickness.
I sat where I was, musing, my work interrupted, a mood of bitter disillusionment heavy upon me. So I sat, it may have been for hours. In the far distance I could hear the faint cry of a bittern in some lonely marsh. "Now, who the deuce is making that noise?" I muttered. "Some silly fool, I suppose, trying to think he's a waterfowl. Cut it out!"
The little skiff was paddled cautiously across the marsh, and in among the reeds where the wild ducks and other waterfowl lived, Sen-senb and her mother holding on to the tall papyrus plants and pulling them aside to make room for the boat, or plucking the beautiful lotus-lilies, of which the Egyptians were so fond.
George Curtis does his best two or three times a year. The preacher has to do it every Sunday. I agree with you about Bryant's "Forest Hymn." I enjoy it more than anything he ever wrote, except the "Waterfowl." Yours always, To Rev. Henry W. Bellows, D.D. ST. DAVID'S, Dec. 24, 1880.
The young earl raised his glasses and gazed southwards along the face of the dissolving curtain. Through and between the ghostly wreaths and wisps of vapor he could see the winged habitants of the swamps flamingoes, cranes, pelicans, ibises, storks, geese, all the countless tropical waterfowl swimming and wading about the reedy lagoons or circling up to fly to other feeding grounds.
At the mouth of Mulberry Creek the adventurous emigrant found his promised land. It was indeed a beautiful region. The sun shines upon none more so. The scenery, which, however, probably had but few attractions for David Crockett's uncultivated eye, was charming. The soil was fertile. The streams abounded with fish and waterfowl; and prairie and forest were stocked with game.
It is an oval, measuring some eighteen hundred yards from north to south: the banks are padded with brown slush frosted white; which, in places, "bogs" the donkeys and admits men to the knee. Beyond it lie dazzling blocks of pure crystallized salt; and the middle of the pond is open, tenanted by ducks and waterfowl, and visited by doves and partridges.
They walked round the garden and down to the pond where there were ornamental waterfowl, teal, widgeon and mandarin ducks, and seeing these again gave her great pleasure. They had always been her favourites, and now she was so overjoyed to see them that she behaved with very little of her usual self-restraint.
More than one flock of large and small waterfowl flew past beneath the silvery cloudlets flecking the lofty azure vault of heaven; here and there a pelican or a pair of wild ducks plunged, with short calls which ceased abruptly, into the lush green thicket, but their cackling and quacking belonged to the voices of Nature, and, when heard, soon died away in the heights of the tipper air, or in the darkness of the underbrush that received the birds.
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