About two o'clock in the afternoon the boys concluded that it was about time to start for home; so, after putting out the fire and fastening the door of the cabin, they set out. Archie led the way, with a 'coon slung over each shoulder, and another dangling from his belt behind. The others followed close after him, in "Indian file." In this manner they marched through the woods, joking and shouting, and talking over the events of the day, and now and then indulging in a hearty laugh when they happened to think how Archie looked when he came into the camp, dripping wet. But Archie took matters very good-naturedly, and replied,
"If I had come back without the 'coon, I should never have heard the last of it; and now you laugh at me because I fell into the drink while I was trying to catch him."
In half an hour they reached the edge of the timber, and were about to climb over the fence into the cornfield, when a long, loud bark echoed through the woods.
"That's Brave," exclaimed Frank; "and," he continued, as all the dogs broke out into a continuous cry, "they've found something. Let's go back."
The boys all agreed to this, and they started back through the woods as fast as their legs could carry them.
A few moments' run brought them in sight of the dogs, sitting on their haunches at the foot of a stump, that rose to the hight of twenty feet, without leaf or branch. Near the top were several holes; and, as soon as Frank discovered these, he exclaimed,
"The dogs have got a squirrel in here."
"How are we going to work to get him out?" inquired Archie.
"Let's cut the stump down," said George.
"That's too much sugar for a cent," answered Harry. "That will be working too hard for one squirrel."
"Why will it?" asked George. "The stump is rotten."
And he laid down his 'coon, and walked up and dealt the stump several lusty blows with his ax.
Suddenly two large black squirrels popped out of one of the holes near the top, and ran rapidly around the stump. Quick as thought, Frank, who was always ready, raised his gun to his shoulder, and one of the squirrels came tumbling to the ground; but, before he had time to fire the second barrel, the other ran back into the hole.
"Hit the tree again, George," exclaimed Harry, throwing down his 'coon, and bringing his gun to his shoulder.
"It's no use," said Frank; "they will not come out again, if you pound on the stump all day."
George, however, did as his brother had requested, but not a squirrel appeared.
"Let's cut the tree down," said Archie.
And, suiting the action to the word, he set manfully to work.
A few blows brought off the outside "crust," and the heart of the tree was found to be decayed, and, in a few moments, it came crashing to the ground, and was shivered into fragments by the fall.
The boys supposed that there was only one squirrel in the tree, and were running up to secure him, when, to their surprise, they discovered a number of the little animals scattering in different directions, and drawing "bee-lines" for the nearest trees.
Frank killed one with his remaining barrel, and Harry, by an excellent shot, brought down another that had climbed up into the top of a tall oak, and was endeavoring to hide among the leaves. Brave and Sport both started after the same one, and overtook and killed it before it could reach a tree; but the grayhound came very near losing his. As soon as the stump had fallen, he singled out one of the squirrels, and, with two or three of his long bounds, overtook it; but, just as he was going to seize it, the squirrel dived into a pile of brush, out of the reach of the hound. A few loud, angry yelps brought Archie and George to his assistance, and they immediately began to pull the pile of brush to pieces. Suddenly the squirrel darted out, and started for a tree that stood about two rods distant. The boys threw their clubs at him, but he reached the foot of the tree unharmed. At this moment Lightfoot discovered him; two or three bounds carried him to the tree, and, crouching a moment, he sprang into the air, and attempted to seize the squirrel. But he was just a moment too late; the little animal had ascended out of his reach; but the next moment the sharp report of Harry's gun brought him to the ground.
The squirrels were now all secured, and the young hunters again turned their faces homeward.
One cold, stormy night, in the latter part of October, Frank and his cousin lay snug in bed, listening to the howling of the wind and the pattering of the rain against the window, and talking over their plans for the future, when, all at once, Frank sat upright in bed, and, seizing Archie's arm with a grip that almost wrung from him a cry of pain, exclaimed,
"Listen! listen!"
And the next moment, clear and loud above the noise of the storm, they heard the trumpet-like notes of a flock of wild geese. They passed over the house, and the sound grew fainter as they flew rapidly away.
"My eye!" exclaimed Archie, "don't I wish it was daylight, and we stood out in front of the house, with our guns all ready!"
"That's a nice thing to wish for," answered Frank; "but, if it were daylight, we should not stand any better chance of shooting them than we do here in bed."
"What's the reason?"
"Why, in the first place, if they went over at all, they would fly so high that it would need a rifle to reach them; and, in the next place, we have not got a rifle. Just wait until morning, and we'll make a scattering among them, if some one don't get the start of us."
"I suppose we are not the only ones that have heard them."
"Not by a good deal. I shouldn't wonder if there were a dozen fellows that have made up their minds to have a crack at them in the morning."
And Frank was right. Many a young hunter, as he lay in bed and heard the wild geese passing over, had determined to have the first shot at them, and many a gun was taken down, and cleaned and loaded, in readiness for the morning's hunt.
Wild geese seldom remained longer than two or three days about the village, and then they generally staid in the swamp. This made it difficult for the young hunters to get a shot at them, and only the most active and persevering ever succeeded.
Although for a month the young sportsmen had been expecting them, and had carefully scanned the river every morning, and listened for the welcome "honk-honk" that should announce the arrival of the wished-for game, this was the first flock that had made its appearance.
"I am afraid," said Archie, "that some one will get the start of us. Let's get up."
"No; lie still and go to sleep," said Frank.
"I am afraid we shall oversleep ourselves. I wonder what time it is."
"I'll soon find out," said Frank.
And, bounding out on to the floor, he lighted a match, and held it up before the little clock that stood on the mantle-piece.
"It's twelve o'clock," he continued.
And he crawled back into bed, and in a few moments was almost asleep, when Archie suddenly exclaimed,
"They're coming back!"
And the geese again passed over the house, in full cry.
They knew it was the same flock, because they came from toward the river, and that was the same direction in which they had gone but a few moments before.
In a short time they again returned; and, during the quarter of an hour that followed, they passed over three times more.
"I wonder what is the matter with those geese," said Archie, at length.
"Nothing," replied Frank; "only they have got a little bewildered, and don't know which way to go."
"Where will we have to go to find them in the morning?"
"Up to the swamp," answered Frank. "The last time they passed over they flew toward the north, and the swamp is the only place in that direction where they can go to find water, except Duck Lake, and that is too far for them to fly this stormy night."
"I wish it was morning," said Archie, again. "Let's get up."
"What's the use? It will be five long hours before it will be light enough to hunt them up; and we might as well go to sleep."
"I'm afraid we shall sleep too long," said Archie, again, "and that some one will beat us."
"No fear of that," answered Frank; "I'll wake you up at three o'clock."
And he turned over and arranged his pillow, and in a few moments was fast asleep. But Archie was so excited that he found it difficult even to lie still; and he lay awake almost two hours, thinking of the sport they should have in the morning, and at last dropped into an unquiet slumber.
It seemed to him that he had hardly closed his eyes, when a strong hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice said, in his ear,
"Wake up here; it's three o'clock."
He did not need a second call, but was out on the floor in an instant.
It was still storming. The wind moaned and whistled through the branches of the trees around the cottage, and sent the big drops of rain rattling against the window. It was a wild time to go hunting, and some boys would have preferred tumbling back into bed again. But Frank and his cousin had made up their minds that if any one got a shot at the geese, they were to be the ones.
As soon as they were dressed, Frank led the way into the kitchen, and, while he was lighting a fire, Archie brought out of the pantry a pan of milk, two spoons and bowls, and a loaf of bread. He was so impatient to "get a crack at the geese," as he said, that, although he was very fond of bread and milk, he could scarcely eat at all.
"I'm afraid some one will get the start of us," he exclaimed, noticing that his cousin, instead of being in a hurry, was taking matters very coolly.
"What if they do?" answered Frank, deliberately refilling his bowl from the pan. "We shall stand just as good a chance as they do. It will not be daylight these two hours. It's as dark as pitch, and all we can do is to go up to the swamp, and get under a tree, and wait until it is light enough to see where our geese are."
As soon as they had finished their breakfast, they brought out their guns, and began to prepare for the hunt. Extra charges were put in each barrel; and, while they were drawing on their rubber coats, Archie said,
"We had better leave my dogs at home, hadn't we? Lightfoot would make too much noise, and Sport, although he would keep still enough, would be of no use to us, for he will not go into the water after a wounded bird."
"Yes," said Frank, "we had better leave them behind. But we must have Brave with us. I'll go and call him."
And he opened the door, and, walking out upon the piazza, which ran entirely around the cottage, gave a low whistle. There was a slight rustling among the straw in the kennel where the dogs slept, and Brave came out, and followed his master into the house.
After wrapping up their guns in their coats, they were ready to set out.
Half an hour's walk, through mud up to their ankles, brought them to Uncle Mike's house, which stood at the end of the road, and, climbing over the fence that inclosed his pasture, they struck off through the woods toward the lake.
After picking their way for half a mile over fallen logs, and through wet, tangled bushes, Frank, who was leading the way, suddenly stopped, and, leaning back against a tree to get out of the rain, said,
"Here we are. Had we better try to cross the creek now, or shall we wait until daylight?"
"You must have cat's eyes," said Archie, trying to peer through the darkness. "I knew there was a creek here somewhere, but I didn't suppose we had reached it yet."
"Well, we have; and, unless I am very much mistaken, you will find the bridge right before you. Shall we try to cross it now? It will be a slippery job."
The "bridge" that Frank referred to was simply a large tree that the boys had felled across the creek, and stripped of its branches. It could easily be crossed in the day-time, but in a dark, stormy night it was a difficult task to undertake. The boys could scarcely see their hands before them; and Frank had accomplished something worth boasting of in being able to conduct his cousin directly to the bridge.
"It will require the skill of a rope-dancer to cross that bridge now," said Archie; "and, if we should happen to slip off into the water, we would be in a nice fix."
"Besides," said Frank, "if we did succeed in crossing, we could not go far in the dark, on account of the swamp; so, I think, we had better wait."
The boys stood under the tree, talking in low tones, when Frank suddenly exclaimed,
"We're all right. The geese are in the lake. Do you hear that?"
Archie listened, and heard a splashing in the water, mingled with the hoarse notes of the gander.
"I wish it was daylight," said he, impatiently.
"Don't be in a hurry," said Frank; "there's time enough."
"I'm afraid they will start off as soon as it gets light."
"Oh, no; the lake is a good feeding-ground, and they would stay, perhaps, all day, if they were not disturbed."
In about an hour the day began to dawn; and, as soon as objects on the opposite side of the creek could be discerned, Frank led the way across the bridge. A short run through the woods brought them to the swamp.
Now the hunt began in earnest. The swamp was covered with water, which, in some places, was two feet deep; and the trees and bushes grew so thick, that it was with difficulty that they could work their way through them. Besides, they were obliged to proceed very carefully, for every step brought them nearer the game; and the slightest splashing in the water, or even the snapping of a twig, might alarm them.
At length they found themselves on the shore of the lake; and, peering out from behind a thicket, where they had crept for concealment, they discovered, about half-way to the opposite shore, as fine a flock of geese as one would wish to see—fifteen of them in all. They were swimming around, turning their heads first one way and then the other, as if they had been alarmed.
"It's a long shot, isn't it?" said Archie, measuring the distance with his eye.
"Yes," answered his cousin; "but that is not the worst of it; they are getting further away from us every moment."
"Well," said Archie, cocking his gun, and pushing it carefully through the bushes, "you be ready to take them as they rise."
As he spoke he took a quick aim at the nearest of the flock, and pulled the trigger. The cap snapped.
"Plague on the gun!" he exclaimed. "Shall I throw it in the lake!"
"No, no," answered Frank; "try the other barrel; and you had better be quick about it—they're going to fly."
Archie again raised his gun to his shoulder. This time there was no mistake. The nearest of the geese received the entire charge, and lay dead on the water.
Frank now waited for his turn; but the geese, after skimming along the surface of the water until they were out of gun-shot, rose in the air, and flew rapidly across the lake.
As the boys stood watching their flight, they saw a cloud of smoke issue from a clump of bushes on the opposite shore, followed by the report of a gun, and one of the flock fell to the water, and another, evidently badly wounded, rose high in the air, and flew wildly about. Another puff of smoke rose from the bushes, a second report was heard, and the wounded bird came tumbling into the lake.
The geese, surprised at this sudden repulse, quickly wheeled, and flew back toward the place where our hunters were stationed.
Frank raised his gun to his shoulder, and, as soon as they came within range, he pulled the trigger, and brought down two geese—one stone-dead, and the other with a broken wing. Hardly waiting to see the effect of the shot, he fired his second barrel at the flock, just as they were disappearing over the tops of the trees. They had flown so high, that he hardly expected the shot would prove effective. To his surprise, one of the flock gradually fell behind, and, after trying in vain to support itself, fell slowly through the air, until it almost reached the water; then it seemed to regain the power of using its wings, and began to fly more regularly.
"Try your gun again, Archie," said Frank; "I'm afraid we are going to lose him."
Archie accordingly drew a bead on the goose, but with no better success, and the bird speedily disappeared over the trees.
"Confound my luck!" exclaimed Archie, impatiently. "I'll try and keep my powder dry after this."
"He can't fly far," said Frank. "Let's be lively, and we will have him yet. Here, Brave!" he continued, pointing to the geese in the lake, "fetch 'em out!"
Brave plunged into the water, and made toward the nearest of the geese, which happened to be the one Frank had wounded. As soon as the bird saw him approaching, instead of trying to save himself by flight, he raised himself in the water, elevated his uninjured wing, and set up a loud hiss. But these hostile demonstrations, instead of intimidating the Newfoundlander, served rather to enrage him, and he kept on, with open mouth, ready to seize the game. The moment he came within reach, the goose thrust out his long neck, and, catching Brave by the ear, dealt him a hard blow over the head with his wing. But he did not have time to repeat it, for the dog gave a loud, angry yelp, and, springing forward in the water, seized the goose, and killed it with a single bite; then, turning round, he swam back to the shore, deposited the game at his master's feet, and again plunged in to bring out the others.
"I wonder who that is on the other side of the lake?" said Archie.
"I guess it's Bill Johnson," answered Frank, who had reloaded his gun, and stood holding it in the hollow of his arm. "I saw a dog that looked very much like his bringing out the geese. There he is now!"
And as he spoke the boy stepped out of the bushes, and a loud, shrill whistle echoed across the lake.
"That's Bill," said Archie. "Hallo!" he continued, raising his voice so that William could hear; "wait for us at Uncle Mike's—will you?"
"All right," shouted William, in reply.
And, gathering up his game, he again disappeared in the bushes.
By this time Brave had brought out the last of the geese, and Archie had succeeded in shooting off the wet charge; so they started back toward the road.
Frank led the way, carrying three of the geese; Brave followed close at his heels, carrying the fourth; and Archie brought up the rear, loading his gun as he went.
An hour's walk brought them to Uncle Mike's, where they found William sitting on the fence, waiting for them.
"What luck?" inquired Archie, as they came up.
"Only two," answered William; "but you have been more fortunate."
"Yes," said Archie, "we've got four; and Frank wounded another so badly that he can't fly far. We are going to look for him in the creek, as we go along."
"And I hope we shall get him," said Frank; "for he was the largest of the flock, and I want him for our museum."
The boys walked slowly down the creek, keeping a good look-out for the wounded bird among the reeds along the bank; but they reached the cottage without seeing any signs of him.
"I'm afraid we've lost him," said Archie.
"I'm sorry," said Frank, "for he was a nice, big fellow. Let's go back; perhaps we've overlooked him. I am certain that he could not have flown to the river."
At this moment a slight splashing in the water, on the opposite side of the creek, attracted their attention, and they discovered their game swimming slowly about among the reeds, as if trying to find some place of concealment.
"Now, Archie," said Frank, dropping the butt of his gun to the ground, "there's a chance for you to retrieve your lost reputation."
"And I'll take advantage of it," said Archie, raising his gun to his shoulder.
A loud report followed his words, and the goose, after a few slight struggles, lay motionless on the water. Brave immediately sprang into the creek, and, forcing his way among the reeds, seized the bird and brought it to the shore.
The next day had been set apart by Frank and his cousin for a squirrel-hunt; but the first thing they heard, when they awoke in the morning, was the pattering of the rain against their bedroom window, and the hunt was, to use Archie's expression, "up stump." Although they had been expecting exciting times, bringing down the squirrels (for the woods were fairly alive with them), and were a good deal disappointed at being obliged to postpone their intended excursion, they were not the ones to complain, they knew there would be many pleasant days before the winter set in, and the hunt was put off without ceremony.
They were at no loss to know how to pass the day. There was plenty of work to be done: their traps must be overhauled and put in working order; the Speedwell was waiting to be dismasted and put cover; their fishing-tackle must be oiled and packed away, their pets taken care of and provided with winter-quarters; and there was a host of other things to attend to; and they were in no fear that the time would hang heavily on their hands.
As soon as the boys were dressed, they went into the shop and set manfully to work. Archie kindled a fire in the stove—for it was a cold, unpleasant day—and Frank pulled from under the work-bench a large chest, filled with spring-traps, "dead-falls," broken reels, scraps of lead, and numberless other things he had collected, and began to pull over the contents. The traps were taken out and subjected to a thorough rubbing and greasing.
While thus engaged, their attention was attracted by the peculiar "cawing" of a crow that flew over the shop, and, a moment afterward, a whole chorus of the harsh notes sounded in the direction of the woods. The boys hurried to the door, and saw a multitude of crows pouring from every part of the woods, cawing with all their might, and directing their course toward a large pine-tree, which stood in the meadow back of the orchard, and which was already covered with them.
"What's the matter?" inquired Archie.
"They act as if they had discovered an owl," answered Frank.
"Have they? Let's go and shoot him."
"That will, probably, be a harder job than you anticipate," said Frank. "However, we will try."
After shutting the dogs up in the shop, the boys ran into the house, drew on their rubber coats, and started through the orchard, loading their guns as they went—putting an extra charge of powder and a couple of buck-shot into each barrel.
In a few moments they reached the fence that ran between the orchard and the meadow, and Archie inquired,
"What shall we do now?"
"We can't go much further," said Frank, drawing a flap of his coat over his gun, to protect it from the rain. "There isn't a stump, or even a tuft of grass, in the meadow large enough to cover us. Besides, if we undertake to climb over the fence, every crow will be out of sight in a moment; then good-by, owl."
"He wouldn't fly off, would he?"
"I should say he would," answered Frank, with a laugh. "He'd leave like a streak of lightning."
"That's news to me. I always thought owls couldn't see in the day-time. Natural history says so."
"I know it," said Frank. "But there is one thing certain: they must be able to see a little, or else their sense of smell or hearing is very acute for it is very difficult to get a shot at them, even in the day-time. That one in our museum led me a chase of half a day before I shot him, and I had a rifle, too."
"What is to be done now?" inquired Archie. "We don't want to stand here in the rain much longer."
"We must wait until he flies into the woods, or somewhere else, so that we can get a shot at him."
"I can make him fly. I've killed squirrels further off than that, many a time. Suppose I shoot at him?"
"Shoot away; but you must remember that an owl and a squirrel are two different things. The thick feathers of the owl will glance a charge of shot that would blow a squirrel to pieces."
Archie made no reply, but crawled up behind a thick cluster of currant-bushes that grew close by the fence, and, thrusting his gun between the branches, was settling himself into a comfortable position, when the owl suddenly leaped from his perch, and flew off toward the woods, as Frank had said he would, "like a streak of lightning," followed by the whole flock of his tormentors, which screamed with all their might.
"Now's our time," said Frank. "Come on!"
And, clearing the fence at a bound, he started across the meadow at the top of his speed. Archie followed close at his heels, and a few minutes run brought them to the edge of the woods.
"Now the hunt begins in earnest," said Frank, "We must separate; we shall make too much noise if we go together."
"Where's the owl?" inquired Archie.
"As near as I can guess, he must be in that tall hemlock," answered Frank, pointing through the woods toward the tree in question.
Archie immediately moved cautiously off in the direction indicated, leaving his cousin to take care if himself.
Guided by the noise made by the crows, he soon discovered the owl, not where Frank had supposed him to be, but on a tree that stood to the right, and several rods further off. Placing a large tree between himself and the game, he threw himself on his hands and knees, and crawled along as silently as possible, taking good care to keep out of sight of the crows.
He had arrived almost within range of the owl, when he found before him a spot of considerable extent, which was entirely destitute of bushes or large trees, and covered only with saplings, which grew so thinly that he would certainly be discovered if he attempted to pass through them. This brought him to a stand-still. He stood thinking whether he had better risk a shot at the owl or retrace his steps, when one of the crews uttered a cry of warning, which was immediately answered by the others, and the whole flock was out of sight in an instant. The owl gazed around a moment with his great eyes, then spread his wings, leaped into the air, and was flying rapidly away, when there was a sharp report, and he came tumbling to the ground, and the indefatigable Frank rose from the bushes, and ran forward to secure his prize.
"Dished again!" said Archie, to himself. "I would have wagered a good deal that Frank was not within gun-shot."
"I say, Archie, where are you?" called out Frank.
"Here I am. I thought, sure, that owl was mine."
And Archie came forward, holding his gun in the hollow of his arm, and looking a little crest-fallen.
"You were not far behind," said Frank, laughing.
"That's poor consolation. I wanted to be first. Never mind," he added, catching up the owl, and throwing it over his shoulder, "I'll be ahead of you yet."
This generous rivalry had existed between the cousins from their earliest boyhood. In all athletic sports—such as running, ball-playing, swimming, and the like—Archie was acknowledged to be the superior; but in hunting Frank generally carried off the palm. Archie, however, perseveringly kept up the contest, and endeavored to accomplish, by bold and rapid movements, what his cousin gained by strategy; and, although he sometimes bore off the prize, he more frequently succeeded in "knocking every thing in the head" by what the boys called his "carelessness."
This was the source of a great deal of merriment between the cousins; and, although they sometimes felt a little mortified at their defeat (as did Archie now), they ever afterward spoke of it as a "good joke."
After breakfast the boys went into the shop again, and Frank sharpened his knife, and began to remove the skin of the owl, intending to stuff it and place it in the museum, while Archie took his ax and started for a grove of willows, that grew on the banks of the creek, to get some timber to make a dead-fall trap. He had been gone scarcely a moment before he returned in a great hurry, and, throwing down his ax, seized his gun, which stood in the corner behind the door, exclaiming,
"Now I've got a chance to make up for losing that owl. A flock of ducks, regular canvas-backs, have just flown over, and I think they lit in the swamp. You'll have to make tracks to get the start of me this time."
And he shouldered his gun, and ran out of the shop, banging the door after him.
Frank immediately dropped the owl, caught up his gun, and started in hot pursuit. But his cousin had made the most of his time, and, when Frank reached the gate, he saw Archie far up the road, tearing along as fast as his legs could carry him, and spattering the mud in every direction.
Under any other circumstances, Frank would have stopped to laugh; but, as it was, he had no time to lose. So he ran down the bank of the creek, and, untying his skiff, pushed out into the stream, and a few strokes of the oars brought him to the opposite shore; then, fastening the skiff to a tree, he started through the woods, toward the swamp. This enabled him to gain on his cousin almost half a mile.
But Archie happened to have luck on his side this time; for the ducks, instead of alighting in the swamp, as he had supposed, had come down in the creek; and, as he was hurrying along the road, which ran close to the creek, a slight splashing in the water and a hoarse "quack" attracted his attention, and caused him to proceed with more caution. He listened until the noise was repeated, in order that he might know exactly where the ducks were, and then began to worm his way through the wet bushes, in the direction of the sound. At length he crawled up behind a large log, that lay close to the water's edge, and had the satisfaction of finding the game fairly before him.
But the most difficult part of the undertaking was yet to come. The ducks—seven of them in all—were fully twenty rods off; and, although Archie had great confidence in the "shooting qualities" of his gun, he hardly dared to fire—he might only wound the birds; and, as he had no ammunition with him besides the loads in his gun, he was anxious to make every shot tell.
"This won't do," he soliloquized. "I must get up nearer."
He was about to retrace his steps, when he noticed that the ducks began to move impatiently around, and acted as if about to fly.
In an instant Archie's mind was made up; it was now or never; and, taking a quick aim at the nearest of the flock, he blazed away. It was his only chance, and a slim one at that, for the distance was so great that he hardly expected the shot would take effect; but, when the smoke cleared away, he discovered one of the flock lying motionless on the water, and another, too badly wounded to rise, was swimming slowly around him. The rest of the flock were skimming along the surface of the creek, toward the swamp. They were far beyond the range of his gun, and he knew it would do no good to fire at them; so he concluded, to use his own expression, to "make sure of what he had got," and, taking aim at the wounded bird, was about to give it the contents of the other barrel, when he heard the report of a gun some distance further up the creek, and looked up just in time to see one of the birds fall into the water.
"Who's that, I wonder," said Archie, to himself. "It can't be Frank, for he wouldn't be on that side of the creek; besides, I had a good long start of him."
His soliloquy was cut short by the movements of the flock, which, instead of continuing on their course up the creek, rose higher in the air, and flew about in confusion.
This opportunity was not lost by the concealed sportsman, and a second bird came down with a broken wing. The ducks then wheeled and flew back toward the place where Archie was stationed. As soon as they came within range, he fired and brought down another bird, which landed among the bushes on the opposite side of the creek.
He now turned his attention to the wounded duck, which was swimming in a circle around his dead companion, as if perfectly bewildered.
"I wish I had my powder-flask and shot-bag," said Archie. "How foolish I was not to bring them! I bet that I'll never start out again with only one load in my gun."
But there was no time for regrets. The duck seemed to be recovering his strength, and began co flap his wings, as if preparing to fly. Archie began to fear that he should lose him; and, throw down his gun, he gathered up an armful of sticks and branches, and straightway opened fire on the bird. The duck dodged the missiles like a flash, and every now and then renewed his attempts to fly; but, at length, a heavy piece of root struck him, and stretched him out lifeless on the water.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed a strong, cheery voice. "That's what I call shooting ducks under difficulties."
Archie looked up and saw his cousin standing on the opposite side of the creek, with his gun on one shoulder and two of the flock slung over the other.
"I came very near getting the start of you, after all—didn't I?" continued Frank.
"Was that you shooting up there?" inquired Archie.
"Yes; I had almost reached the swamp, when I happened to think that perhaps the ducks might be in the creek, so I turned back."
"A lucky circumstance for you. But I beat you, after all. I've got three ducks."
"Where are they? I don't see but two."
"The other is over there in the bushes, somewhere."
Frank immediately commenced looking for it, and Archie procured a long branch, and waded out as far as possible into the creek, and, after considerable exertion and a thorough wetting, succeeded in pulling both of his ducks to the shore.
During the three weeks that followed, the boys passed the time in various ways—sometimes hunting in the woods or on the river, but more frequently working in the shop. They also spent considerable time in attending to their pets. The young otter proved to be the most interesting little animal they had ever seen. He grew quite tame, and when the boys entered the room where he was kept, he would come toward them, uttering a faint whine, and, if they seated themselves, he would jump up into their laps, and search through their pockets for something to eat—such as bread or crackers, of which the boys always took especial care to have a good supply.
At length they began to long for winter, and many were the speculations as to when the "first fell of snow" would come. Their traps were all in order, and they were impatient for an opportunity to make use of them. Besides, they had agreed with George and Harry to "go fox-hunting the very first time there was snow enough for tracking."
A week more passed, and Thanksgiving Day came; and in the evening Frank and his cousin went down to visit George and Harry, intending, as they said, to "stay only a few minutes." But Mr. Butler soon came in, and began to relate some of his "sailor yarns," as he called them (for he was a retired sea-captain), and the boys became so interested in listening to them, that they did not notice how rapidly the time flew by, and it was ten o'clock before they knew it. They then bade the Captain "good-night." George and Harry, as usual, agreed to accompany them part of the way, and, when they reached the door, what was their surprise to find the ground white with snow, and the air filled with the rapidly-falling flakes.
"We'll have that fox-hunt to-morrow," exclaimed Harry, in delight.
"Of course we will," said Archie, "and I wouldn't take ten dollars for my chance of catching one."
"You mean, if the snow doesn't melt," said Frank, quietly.
"Oh, that's always the way with you," said Archie. "What makes you try to throw cold water on all our expectations, in that way?"
"I didn't intend to," answered Frank, with a laugh; "but, you know, we have been disappointed very often."
"Yes," said George, "but I guess we are all right this time. It snows pretty fast, and the air doesn't feel like a thaw or rain."
Frank acknowledged this; and they walked along, talking about the exciting times they expected to have on the morrow, until they reached the "big elm"—a large tree that stood leaning over the creek, just half-way between Captain Butler's and where Frank lived. Here George and Harry stopped, and, after promising to be at the cottage early on the following morning, turned their faces homeward.
The next morning, at an early hour, George and Harry arrived at the cottage, and, after a light and hastily-eaten breakfast, they set out. Frank and Harry were armed, as usual, with their guns, while the others carried axes. They crossed the meadow at the back of the orchard, passed through the cornfield which had been the scene of the 'coon-hunt, a few weeks before, and struck out through the woods. The dogs were then sent out ahead, and they had not gone more than half a mile, when Sport uttered a long, loud howl, and, when the boys came up with him, he was running impatiently about with his nose close to the ground.
"A fox has been along here," said Frank, bending over and examining a track in the snow, "and the trail looks fresh."
"Hunt 'em up! hunt 'em up!" shouted Archie, excitedly, waving his hand to the dogs.
Sport bounded off on the track like a shot, and Lightfoot followed close after. Brave barked and howled furiously, and acted as if he wished very much to accompany them; but the swift hounds would have distanced him in a moment.
It must not be supposed that it was the intention of the boys to follow up the hounds—that would have been worse than useless. Perhaps the chase would continue for several hours. They had once hunted a fox all day, without coming in sight of him. Reynard has ways and habits of his own, which a person who has had experience in hunting him understands. He always runs with the wind, and generally follows a ridge. The hunters take advantage of this, and "run cross-lots" to meet him, sometimes gaining on him several miles in this manner.
The moment the hounds had disappeared on the trail, Frank—who knew all the "run-ways" of the game like a book—led the way through the woods toward a ridge that lay about a mile distant, where they expected the fox would pass.
A quarter of an hour's run brought them to this ridge, and they began to conceal themselves behind trees and bushes, when Archie suddenly exclaimed,
"We're dished, boys. The fox has already passed."
"Come on, then," said Frank. "No time to lose. We must try again."
And he again led the way, on a keen run, through a strip of woods, across a wide meadow toward another ridge, that lay fully three miles distant.
At length the baying of the hounds echoed through the woods, far below them. Louder and louder it grew, and, in a few moments, they swept up the ridge in full cry. The boys hurried on as rapidly as possible, and reached the ridge in about an hour. Although they were accustomed to such sport, they were pretty well tired out. They had run the greater part of the way through thick woods, filled with fallen logs and tangled bushes; but they now felt confident that the hunt was nearly over. They knew they had gained considerably on the fox, and his capture would be an ample reward for their trouble.
As soon as they reached the ridge, they threw themselves rapidly across it in all directions, and, to their delight, discovered that the fox had not yet passed. They stationed themselves in such a manner that it would be impossible for him to pass on either side of them without coming within reach of their guns, and patiently awaited his appearance. They had not remained long in this position, when Archie, who was stationed lowest down the ridge, exclaimed in a subdued voice,
"There they come, boys! Now, look sharp!"
The boys listened intently, and heard, faint and far off, the well-known bay of Sport. It was sharp and short—very different from the note he had uttered when the chase first commenced. Louder and louder grew the noise, as the hounds came rapidly up the ridge toward the place where the boys were stationed, and every one was on the alert, expecting every moment to see the fox break cover.
Suddenly a loud howl blended with Sport's baying, and the hounds seemed to turn and sweep down the valley.
"The fox has left the ridge, boys," said Frank.
"Then we're dished again," exclaimed Archie.
"Perhaps not," continued Frank. "He will have to go across the meadow, and will run the risk of being caught by Lightfoot. We must try and cut him off."
And he led the way down the ridge, in the direction the chase was tending.
In a few moments the hounds broke out into a continuous cry, and, when the boys emerged from the woods, they saw them standing at the foot of a tall stump, which stood near the middle of the meadow.
Brave immediately ran to join them, and Harry exclaimed,
"I'd like to know what those dogs are doing there?"
"Why, they've got the fox treed," said Frank.
"A fox treed!" repeated Harry, with a laugh, "Whoever heard of such a thing?"
"I have often read," answered Frank, "that when a fox is hard pressed, and finds himself unable to escape, he will take advantage of any place of concealment he can find."
While this conversation was going on, the boys had been running toward the stump, and, when they reached it, they found Brave with his head buried in a hole near the ground, now and then giving his tail a jerk, but otherwise remaining as motionless as a statue.
"What do you think now of the possibility of seeing a fox?" inquired Frank, turning to Harry.
"I don't believe it yet," said the latter.
"Then how is it that the dogs are here?"
"The fox may have run down here and doubled on his trail, and thus thrown the dogs off the scent."
"He didn't have time to do that," said Archie, who had divested himself of his coat, and stood with his ax, ready to cut down the stump. "He's in here, I'm certain. See how Brave acts."
"It will not take long to find out," said George, who was a good deal of his brother's opinion that the fox was not in the tree.
And he and Archie set to work, with the intention of cutting it down. But it was found to be hollow; and, after taking out a few chips, Archie stooped down to take a survey of the interior, and spied the fox crouched in the darkest corner.
"Hand me your gun, Frank," said he; "I'll shoot him."
"I wouldn't shoot him," said Frank. "It is a good time to try Lightfoot's speed. Let's get the fox out, and give him a fair start, and if he gets away from the hound, he is entitled to his life."
The boys readily agreed to this proposal—not out of any desire to give the fox a chance for his liberty, but in order to witness a fair trial of the grayhound's speed, and to enjoy the excitement of the race.
George and Harry provided themselves with long poles, with which to "poke" the fox out of his refuge. Brave and Sport were unceremoniously conducted away from the tree, and ordered to "lie down;" and Frank took hold of the grayhound, intending to restrain him until the fox could get a fair start.
"All ready now," said Archie. "Keep a good look-out, Frank, and let the hound go the instant the fox comes out. You know, Lightfoot is young yet, and it won't do to give the game too long a start."
"All right," answered Frank.
And he tightened his grasp on the strong, impatient animal, which struggled desperately to free himself, while George and Harry began the work of "poking out the fox." They thrust their poles into the holes they had cut in the roots of the stump, and the next moment out popped the fox, and started toward the woods like a streak of light.
The meadow was about a mile and a half square, and was laid off in "dead furrows"—deep ditches, which are dug, about four rods apart, to drain off the water. The fox took to the bank of one of these furrows, and followed it at a rate of speed which the boys had never seen equaled.
The moment Lightfoot discovered him, he raised himself on his hind-legs, and struggled and fought furiously. But Frank would not release him in that position, for fear the hound would "throw" himself; and he commenced striking him on the head, to compel him, if possible, to place his fore-feet on the ground, but all to no purpose.
During the struggle, short as it was, the fox had gained nearly thirty rods. Archie was not slow to notice this, and he shouted to his cousin,
"Let him go! let him go! The fox has too long a start already."
Frank accordingly released the hound, which made an enormous bound, and, as Frank had expected, he landed, all in a heap, in one of the dead furrows, and, before he could recover himself, the fox had gained two or three rods more. But when the hound was fairly started, his speed was astonishing. He settled down nobly to his work, and moved over the ground as lightly as if he had been furnished with wings.
Had he been a well-trained dog, the boys would have felt no concern whatever as to the issue of the race; but, as it was, they looked upon the escape of the fox as a very probable thing. The fox was still following the dead furrow, and Lightfoot, instead of pursuing directly after him, as he ought to have done, took to another furrow which ran parallel to the one the fox was following, and about four rods from it.
The fox had a good start, but the enormous bounds of the greyhound rapidly lessened the distance between them; he gained at every step, and finally overtook him, and the two animals were running side by side, and only four rods apart.
Suddenly the cunning fox turned, and started off exactly at right angles with the course he had been following. The gray hound, of course, had not been expecting this, and he made a dozen of his long bounds before he could turn himself. During this time the fox gained several rods.
As before, the hound pursued a course parallel with that of the fox, instead of following directly after him.
In a few moments they were again running side by side, but this time further apart than before. Again and again the fox turned, each time nearing the woods, and gaining considerably; and finally, reaching the end of the meadow, he cleared the fence at a bound, and disappeared in the bushes.
"Now, that's provoking!" exclaimed Archie.
"Never mind," answered Frank. "I don't think the fox can go much further. He must be pretty well tired out, judging by the way he ran. Here, Sport!" he continued, "hunt 'em up!"
Sport was off like a shot, and the boys followed after as fast as their legs could carry them.
When they reached the woods, they found Lightfoot beating about in the bushes, as if he expected to find the fox concealed among them. Sport was standing over the trail of the fox, as motionless as if he had been turned into stone.
"Hunt 'em up!" shouted Frank, again—"hunt 'em up."
The hound uttered a loud bark, and instantly set off on the trail, and Lightfoot, as before, followed close at his heels.
"Now," exclaimed Frank, "we must change our tactics."
"Yes," said Harry. "A little further on, the ridge branches off, and there is no knowing which one the fox will follow. Come, George, we will go this way."
And he turned and ran down into the meadow again.
"Run like blazes, now!" shouted Frank.
And, suiting the action to the word, he turned off in the opposite direction, and led the way through the woods at a rate which made Archie wonder. They ran along in "Indian file"—Brave bringing up the rear—for almost two miles, through the thickest part of the woods, when they again found themselves on the ridge. After ascertaining that the fox had not yet passed, they took their stations.
"I would really like to know which way that fox went," said Archie, panting hard after his long run.
"I am almost certain that he took to the other ridge," answered Frank. "I think we should have heard the hound before this time, if he had turned this way."
They remained in their places of concealment for almost an hour, without hearing any sounds of the chase, and Frank said,
"We might as well start for home."
"Dished again, are we?" said Archie, in a deprecating tone. "That's too bad! Well," he continued, "we can't always be the fortunate ones, but I wish I could have had the pleasure of shooting that fox. But which way do we go to get home?"
"We must go exactly south," said Frank.
"Which way is that?"
"I will soon tell you."
And Frank drew a small compass from his pocket, and, in a moment, continued,
"This is the way. Come on!"
And he turned his face, as Archie thought, directlyfromhome, and struck boldly out. Their long run had taxed their endurance to the utmost. If they had "been in practice," they would have looked upon it as merely a "little tramp;" for, during the previous winter, they had often followed a fox all day without experiencing any serious inconvenience; but, as this was the first exercise of the kind they had had for almost a year, they felt the effects of it pretty severely.
Archie, who had lived in the city during the summer, was "completely used up," as he expressed it; and his cousin was weary and footsore; and it seemed as though neither of them had sufficient strength left to take another step.
They kept on, hour after hour, however, without once stopping to rest; and, about three o'clock in the afternoon, they climbed over the fence that inclosed Uncle Mike's pasture, and came in sight of the cottage.
George and Harry were sitting on the piazza, and, as soon as they came within speaking distance, the latter held up the fox, exclaiming,
"We were lucky, for once in our lives."
"If we had been five minutes later, we should have lost him," said George, as Frank and his cousin came up to where the brothers were sitting. "We reached the ridge just in the 'nick of time,' The fox was just passing, and Harry brought him down by a chance shot. Here, Frank," he continued, "you take the fox; we have no use for him."
Frank thanked him; and the boys then went into the house, and, after dinner, the brothers started for home.
Frank and his cousin went into the study, and the former selected his favorite book from his library, and settled himself in an easy-chair before the fire; while Archie stretched himself on the bed, and was fast asleep in a moment.
And here, reader, we will leave them reposing after their long run; but we hope soon to introduce them again in works entitled, "FRANK IN THE WOODS," and "FRANK ON THE PRAIRIE."