Chapter of Incidents.
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.