GUNNING BY MOONLIGHT
Webb saw the glance from eyes on which were still traces of tears; he
also saw his brother's look of sympathy; and with the kindly purpose of
creating a diversion to her thoughts he started up, breaking off his
discussion with Leonard, and left the room. A moment later he returned
from the hall with the double-barrelled gun.
"What now, Webb?" cried Burt, on the _qui vive_. "You will make Amy
think we are attacked by Indians."
"If you are not afraid of the cold, get your gun, and I think I can give
you some sport, and, for a wonder, make you useful also," Webb replied.
"While you were careering this afternoon I examined the young trees in
the nursery, and found that the rabbits were doing no end of mischief. It
has been so cold, and the snow is so deep, that the little rascals are
gathering near the house. They have gnawed nearly all the bark off the
stems of some of the trees, and I doubt whether I can save them. At first
I was puzzled by their performances. You know, father, that short nursery
row grafted with our seedling apple, the Highland Beauty? Well, I found
many of the lower twigs taken off with a sharp, slanting cut, as if they
had been severed with a knife, and I imagined that a thrifty neighbor had
resolved to share in our monopoly of the new variety, but I soon discovered
that the cuttings had been made too much at random to confirm the
impression that some one had been gathering scions for grafting. Tracks on
the snow, and girdled trees, soon made it evident that rabbits were the
depredators. One of the little pests must have climbed into a bushy tree at
least eighteen inches from the snow, in order to reach the twigs I found
cut."
"A rabbit up a tree!" exclaimed Leonard. "Who ever heard of such a
thing?"
"Well, you can see for yourself to-morrow," Webb resumed. "Of course we
can't afford to pasture the little fellows on our young trees, and so
must feed them until they can be shot or trapped. The latter method will
be good fun for you, Alf. This afternoon I placed sweet apples,
cabbage-leaves, and turnips around the edge of a little thicket near the
trees; and, Burt, you know there is a clump of evergreens near, from
whose cover I think we can obtain some good shots. So get your gun, and
we'll start even."
At the prospect of sport Burt forgot Amy and everything else, and dashed
off.
"Oh, papa, can't I go with them?" pleaded Alf.
"What do you think, Maggie?" Leonard asked his wife, who now entered.
"Well, boys will be boys. If you will let mamma bundle you up--"
"Oh, yes, anything, if I can only go!" cried Alf, trembling with
excitement.
"Sister Amy," Webb remarked, a little diffidently, "if you care to see
the fun, you can get a good view from the window of your room. I'll load
my gun in the hall."
"Can I see you load?" Amy asked, catching some of Alf's strong interest.
"It's all so novel to me."
"Certainly. I think you will soon find that you can do pretty much as you
please in your new home. You are now among republicans, you know, and we
are scarcely conscious of any government."
"But I have already discovered one very strong law in this household,"
she smilingly asserted, as she stood beside him near the hall-table, on
which he had placed his powder-flask and shot-pouch.
"Ah, what is that?" he asked, pouring the powder carefully into the
muzzles of the gun.
"The law of kindness, of good-will. Why," she exclaimed, "I expected to
be weeks in getting acquainted, but here you are all calling me sister
Amy as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It seems so odd,"
she laughed, "that I am not a bit afraid of you, even with your gun, and
yet we have just met, as it were. The way you and your brothers say
'sister Amy' makes the relation seem real. I can scarcely believe that I
am the same girl that stepped down at the station this evening, nor can I
get over my pleased wonder at the transformation."
"Amy," said the young man, earnestly, "your coming promises so much to us
all! You were just the one element lacking in our home. I now see that it
was so. I already have the presentiment that you will do more for us than
we can for you."
"I ought to do all that the deepest gratitude could prompt. You have
never known what it is to be desolate one hour, and to find an ideal home
the next."
"I wish it might be an ideal home to you; but don't expect too much. You
will find some of us very human."
"Therefore I shall feel the more at home. Papa always spoiled me by
letting me have my own way, and I shall often tax your patience. Do you
know, I never saw a gun loaded before. There seems to be so much going on
here, and I have lived such a quiet life of late. How will you make the
thing go off?"
"These little precussion-caps will do the business. It seems to me that
I've always been quiet, and perhaps a trifle heavy. I hope you will think
it your mission to render me less matter-of-fact. I'm ready now, and here
comes Burt with his breech-loader. If you will go to your room now, you
can see our shots."
A moment later she stood with Johnnie at her window, both almost holding
their breath in expectation as they saw the young men, with Alf following,
steal toward a clump of evergreens behind the house.
"Quiet and steady now," Webb cautioned his eager brother; "and, Alf, you
step in my tracks, so there may be no noise." Thus they made their way
among the pines, and peered cautiously out. "Hold on, Burt," Webb
whispered, as the former was bringing his gun to his shoulder; "I want a
crack at them as well as yourself. Let's reconnoitre. Yes, there are
three or four of the scamps. Let Alf see them. They look so pretty in the
moonlight that I've scarcely the heart to disturb, much less to kill
them."
"Oh, stop your sentimental nonsense!" muttered Burt, impatiently. "It's
confoundedly cold, and they may take fright and disappear."
"Black ingratitude!" Webb exclaimed. "If there isn't one in the apple
nursery in spite of all my provision for them! That ends my compunctions.
I'll take him, and you that big fellow munching a cabbage-leaf. We'll
count three--now, one, two--" The two reports rang out as one, and the
watchers at the window saw the flashes, and thrilled at the reverberating
echoes.
"It's almost as exciting as if they were shooting Indians, robbers, or
giants," cried Johnnie, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.
"Back," said Webb to Alf, who was about to rush forward to secure the
game; "we may get another shot."
They waited a few moments in vain, and then succumbed to the cold. To Alf
was given the supreme delight of picking up the game that lay on the
snow, making with their blood the one bit of color in all the white
garden.
"Poor little chaps!" Webb remarked, as he joined the family gathered
around Alf and the rabbits in the sitting-room. "It's a pity the world
wasn't wide enough for us all."
"What has come over you, Webb?" asked Burt, lifting his eyebrows. "Has
there been a hidden spring of sentiment in your nature all these years,
which has just struck the surface?"
It was evident that nearly all shared in Webb's mild regret that such a
sudden period had been put to life at once so pretty, innocent, and
harmful. Alf, however, was conscious of only pure exultation. Your boy is
usually a genuine savage, governed solely by the primal instinct of the
chase and destruction of wild animals. He stroked the fur, and with eyes
of absorbed curiosity examined the mischievous teeth, the long ears, the
queer little feet that never get cold, and the places where the lead had
entered with the sharp deadly shock that had driven out into the chill
night the nameless something which had been the little creature's life.
Amy, too, stroked the fur with a pity on her face which made it very
sweet to Webb, while tender-hearted Johnnie was exceedingly remorseful,
and wished to know whether "the bunnies, if put by the fire, would not
come to life before morning." Indeed, there was a general chorus of
commiseration, which Burt brought to a prosaic conclusion by saying:
"Crocodile tears, every one. You'll all enjoy the pot-pie to-morrow with
great gusto. By the way, I'll prop up one of these little fellows at the
foot of Ned's crib, and in the morning he'll think that the original
'Br'er Rabbit' has hopped out of Uncle Remus's stories to make him a
Christmas visit."