CHAPTER IV
THE SHOOTING TRIP'S UNEXPECTED ENDING
Evidently visitors in this neighborhood were something of a novelty,for there was quite a bustle of excitement as they drew up before thedoor. Cluff himself came hurrying from the barn to meet them--a sturdyfigure of a man, ruddy and bronzed from constant toiling in the openair. Colonel, the retriever, barked himself hoarse, trying vainly tojump up into the buggy, his tail wagging in eager welcome. Cluff'seldest boy, a tow-headed youngster of ten or eleven, came strollingaround the corner of the house, barefooted, clad in blue overalls, astraw in his mouth, surveying them with critical interest. Thefarmer's pretty wife appeared in the doorway, two of the youngerchildren peering forth shyly from behind her skirts. No greeting couldhave been heartier. Introductions were soon made, and then Cluffturned to his boy. "Now, you, Nathan," he directed, "take the hoss outto the barn. And you boys, you come right into the house, and prettysoon we'll have a bite to eat, and then we'll get started on ourcruise."
Putnam could no longer keep from asking the momentous question. "Howabout the ducks?" he ventured.
The farmer grinned. "Ducks?" he echoed. "By golly, boys, you certainlyhave struck it right. We ain't had a better flight for twenty years.Lots of marsh ducks, and there's a big raft of redheads and blackheadsbeen trading to and fro, regular, for the last two weeks, and thereain't nobody bothered 'em at all. Oh, you'll see plenty of ducks;there ain't no doubt about that. Only question is," he addedhumorously, "whether you can hit 'em or not. I ain't ever seen eitherof you boys shoot, so I don't know. What kind of guns you got?"
They produced them from the rear of the buggy. Jim's was a twelvebore, hammerless; Dick's a more ponderous and old-fashioned ten-gagehammer gun. At the sight of this latter weapon, Cluff nodded inapproval, but looked a little askance at the lighter of the two.
"A twelve bore is good for quail and partridges," he remarked, "butyou need a ten gage for ducks. You want a big gun to stop thosefellers. A ten gage is what I use. Guess I'll put you over in themarsh, Jim. You can do closer range shooting there. And I'll give youmy wading boots, so you can pick up your ducks yourself. 'Tain't deepover there, and the bottom's good. Then we'll fit your friend onPebble P'int, and give him Colonel to fetch his ducks for him and I'llgo over across to t'other side of the lake, and fit there, near thecove. That way, we'll keep the birds pretty well stirred up, and it'llmake better shooting for every one."
An hour later, fortified with a good dinner of turkey and "fixings,"they shoved off from the beach at the easterly end of the lake, Cluffand Putnam at the oars, Dick seated in the stern, and Colonel curledcomfortably up forward, on the heap of wooden decoys.
Parallel with the course they were steering, a long strip of landextended out into the lake, wide and well-wooded at its base,narrowing gradually to the westward, and ending in the sloping pebblebeach that had given the point its name. Here Cluff backed the boat inclose to land, and set Dick and Colonel ashore; showed Dick how bestto conceal himself in the blind, half-raised, half-hollowed among thestones; and then, unwinding the cord wrapped loosely around theirbodies, he threw overboard some twenty or thirty of the wooden redheadand blackhead decoys, each securely weighted with a lump of iron, andthen, with a wave of farewell, again bent to the oars, and rowed offdown the lake. Dick made himself comfortable in the blind, andwhistled to Colonel, who crept in beside him, and curled up snugly athis side. Dick heaved a sigh of satisfaction. "Now we're ready for'em, old boy," he said, stroking the retriever's silky ears, "and Isuppose, if they come in, and I miss 'em, you'll despise me for therest of your natural life."
Far down the lake, he watched the boat disappearing against theoutline of the western shore. In front of him, his little flock ofdecoys dipped gaily to the breeze, looking so lifelike, thathalf-closing his eyes, he could almost persuade himself that they werereally alive. He glanced at his watch. It was half-past two, and Cluffhad said that the flight would begin by three. Yet eager as he was, hedid not grudge the time he had to wait. It was pleasant lying there,with the warm sun shining in his face; pleasant to listen to the wind,as it swept through the tree-tops, and to hear the ripple of the tinywaves against the smooth, clean gray of the beach, flecked here andthere with foam.
Presently he could see the boat returning, with one figure only at theoars, and he knew that Putnam must be safely tucked away among themarshy sedges, at the other end of the lake. Cluff made for the cove,a short distance to the south, set his decoys, dragged his boat upinto the bushes, and disappeared from sight. All was at last inreadiness. For the hundredth time, Dick looked at his watch. Fiveminutes of three. And then, as he glanced up once more toward thenorth, he shrank down still lower into the stand. A pair of ducks werewinging their way up the lake, heading almost directly for the spotwhere he lay. He watched them eagerly, hardly daring to breathe, andthen, little by little, they swerved, flying closer to the water, andfinally passed, just out of reach, keeping on toward the cove whereCluff was concealed. All at once, Dick saw them wheel, set theirwings, and sweep gracefully in toward the little flock of decoys. "Whydoesn't he shoot?" he wondered, "Why doesn't he shoot?"
A puff of smoke leaped from the bushes; a dull report came down uponthe wind. One of the ducks towered straight into the air; the otherDick could not see. Then, in a flash, the survivor crumpled up anddropped headlong, motionless, into the waters of the lake. The secondreport came borne across the water. Dick drew a long breath. "Bygracious," he murmured, "he can certainly hit 'em, for fair."
The minutes passed. Then, from across the lake he heard, very faintand far, the sound of Putnam's little twelve gage; and a moment laterhe saw three ducks flying toward the cove. Would they decoy again? hewondered. Would Cluff get another shot? They seemed to be comingstraight on--
"Whew--whew--whew--whew--whew--" came the whistle of flying wings; onthe instant he turned his head, and his heart jumped at the sight.Unperceived, a flock of a dozen blackheads had come down along thepoint, had swung in to him, and now were fairly hovering over thedecoys. Quick as thought, his gun was at his shoulder--Bang! Bang!sounded the double report and one duck fell dead to each shot. Dickfelt himself trembling like a leaf at the suddenness of it all.Colonel, awaiting the word, lay quivering at his feet, his eyes,glowing like coals, fixed on the ducks, as they lay floating in thewater. "Fetch 'em out, old man," Dick cried, and like a shot, theretriever was down the beach, breasting the waves, head and tail highin air, like the sturdy veteran he was. One at a time, he brought themin, and laid them proudly at Dick's feet; then once more crouched inthe stand, waiting until his chance should come again.
Nor did they have long to wait. Now, far off in the northern sky, theducks began to come in a steady flight, flying singly, in pairs, andin flocks of varying size. The marsh ducks, Dick noticed, made, forthe most part, straight down the lake, toward the point where Putnamlay hidden in the reeds, and from time to time, the faint report ofhis companion's gun came to him over the water, though at such adistance that Dick could only guess at what luck he might be having.It was different with Cluff. The cove was so near that Dick could keepa rough account of the number of ducks falling to the farmer's share,and it was seldom indeed that a flock swung into the cove, withoutleaving one or more of their number behind.
Dick's own aim was scarcely as good. He put a number of good shots tohis credit, stopping a pair of widgeon with one barrel, just as theydrew together in the air; again knocking three redheads from a flockof five, passing at full speed overhead, without swinging to thedecoys; and twice scoring a clean right and left on blackheads as theylowered handsomely to the blind. Yet his kills were offset by somevillainous misses, over which he could only shake his head dejectedly,and turn away in shame from the reproachful glance of the retriever'seye. Once, indeed, just at sundown, a flock of about fifty redheadsswung in, at just the proper range, just the proper elevation, justthe proper everything; and yet somehow, flurried by the magnitude ofthe oppor
tunity, he waited too long, sighted first at one bird, thenat another, and finally fired one ineffectual barrel, just as the lastbird in the flock was getting out of range. For a moment he almostwept, and then found a crumb of comfort in the thought that onlyColonel was there to see, and that he could not tell of it, even if hewould.
All too soon the sun sank behind the hills at the westerly limit ofthe lake. Dick left the stand, walked around to relieve his crampedmuscles, and then counted up his bag. Eight blackheads, five redheads,two widgeon, a black duck and two teal, eighteen in all. He stoodregarding them with pride. Now and again in the dusk he could hear thewhistle of passing wings overhead; once, halfway down the lake, Cluffand Putnam, returning, fired at some belated flock, and with thereport of their guns two jets of living flame leaped upward againstthe dark. A little later and he could hear the sound of their oars;then presently a dim black shape loomed up ahead and Cluff's friendlyhail sounded through the gloom. "Well, son," he called, "I heard youdottin' it into 'em. And I saw there was some that didn't get away.How many did you kill?"
"Eighteen," Dick called back, "and if I'd shot straight I'd havekilled forty. How many did you folks get?"
"Jim got fourteen," answered Cluff, "and I scored up twenty-two. Guessmaybe Mr. Fenton's going to be a mite surprised. I told you we'd dowell. You just wait, now, till I take in these decoys, and we'll comeashore and get you."
They rowed home through the darkness and trudged up the path,well-laden with their spoils, glad when the lights of the farm-housegleamed cheerfully across the clearing, welcome enough in any case,but now suggesting, as well, the thought of supper preparing within.And what a supper it was! Just comfortably tired and hungry, the boysmade an onslaught on the fare which surprised even their host,accustomed as he was to the demands of a healthy country appetite."Well, I don't know," he remarked at last, "I rather thought I had youfellows beat on shooting ducks, but when it comes to putting awayturkey I guess you've pretty well squared up the count."
By seven o'clock their horse was at the door, and putting in theirguns and their share of the game, they bade good-by to Cluff and hiswife, thanking them again and again for their kindness, and set out ontheir homeward way. They were scarcely as talkative, after the firstfew miles, as they had been on the way out, but sat in silence, eachliving the day over again in his mind. Retrospect had taken the placeof anticipation, and their pleasure, while perhaps fully as great, wasof a kind more tranquil, and less keen. Perhaps, too, the spell of thenight quieted their tongues. The full moon rose high in the heavens,putting the stars to rout, and lighting the long, straight road aheadof them almost as clearly as if it had been day. And thus they joggedsteadily along in silence until they had traversed the greater part oftheir journey home. Scarcely a sound had disturbed the quiet of thedrive. Now and again they heard the hooting of an owl; once a foxyapped sharply, and in answer there came a distant, long-drawn chorusof barks and howls, as if every dog within a dozen miles was givinganswer to the challenge. But of fellow-travelers, either driving or onfoot, they saw no sign until they had come within a mile or so oftown. Then Dick, half lulled to sleep by the steady, monotonous thudof the mare's feet on the road, started up suddenly, rubbing his eyes,for ahead of them he saw two shadowy figures, one tall, one short,striding along the path in the gloom. "Look at those men, Jim," hesaid. "I wonder what they're doing out here at this time of night?"
As he spoke the figures rounded a bend in the path and disappearedfrom sight. And then, before Putnam could answer, all in the samebreath, there arose ahead of them a quick, sharp outcry, the sounds ofa scuffle, and then a shrill and frightened scream, echoing wildlythrough the silent forest, "Help! Help!"
As quick as thought Putnam leaned forward, snatched the whip from itssocket and brought it down with all his force across the mare'sflanks. Old Rosy bounded forward under the blow and Putnam cried,"Load up quick, Dick! Load up your gun!"
It had been Randall's first thought. Even as Putnam uttered the wordshe reached down, drew out the ten bore from under the seat, slipped intwo shells, and sat alert and ready, his body bent a little forward,his weapon across his knees, as they sped forward, the buggy rockingand swaying beneath them like a ship in a gale of wind. A moment laterthey rounded the curve and Putnam, with a mighty jerk on the reins,pulled the mare back almost to her haunches to avoid running over thehuddled group of figures fighting in the road. At the same instantDick leaped from the buggy and ran forward.
A quick glance revealed the situation. One man was being attacked bythree others, while on the outskirts of the group a little boyhovered, terror-stricken, still crying out for help. The man upon thedefensive was holding his own manfully. He was tall and active, andmade shrewd play with a stout cudgel, apparently his only weapon,striving constantly to prevent his adversaries from attacking him inthe rear. Yet three to one was heavy odds; knives gleamed in themoonlight; and while two of the attacking force advanced warily on himthe third was creeping stealthily around behind just as the boysappeared on the scene. With a shout Dick leaped forward, discharginghis right hand barrel over the heads of the contestants as he ran. Theeffect of his shot was well-nigh magical. On the instant the three menbroke and ran, diving into the bushes as if they knew the countrywell. The tall man started to follow, fumbling vainly in his pocket ashe did so, then drew up with a suppressed cry of pain and turned tohis rescuers. "Much obliged," he said. "Just about in time, I guess;they pretty nearly had me--"
He broke off suddenly, lurching unsteadily toward the buggy. "Don'tknow but what they've done me, now," he muttered.
Dick could see that his face was deathly pale. "Here, Jim," he called,"take him and the boy. Drive right in to the hospital. I'll get back,all right; it isn't far--" He helped the man into the wagon and liftedthe boy in behind. Putnam gave the mare a cut with the whip and thebuggy shot forward toward the town.
Dick Randall, the Young Athlete Page 4