Almost without thinking, Blacky spread his wings and
started out from that tree. “Caw, caw,
caw, caw, caw!” he shrieked at the top of his
lungs. “Caw, caw, caw, caw, caw!”
It was his danger cry that everybody on the Green
Meadows and in the Green Forest knows.
Instantly Dusky turned and began to climb up, up,
up, the other Ducks following him until, as they passed
over the hidden hunter, they were so high it was useless
for him to shoot. He did put up his gun and
aim at them, but he didn’t shoot. You see,
he didn’t want to frighten them so that they
would not return. Then the flock turned and
started off in the direction from which they had come,
and in a few minutes they were merely a black line
disappearing far down the Big River.
Blacky headed straight for the Green Forest, chuckling
as he flew. He knew that those Ducks would not
return until after dark. He had saved them this
time, and he was so happy he didn’t even notice
the Black Shadows. And the hunter stood up and
shook his fist at Blacky the Crow.
Blacky awoke in the best of spirits. Late the
afternoon before he had saved Dusky the Black Duck
and his flock from a hunter with a terrible gun.
He wasn’t quite sure whether he was most happy
in having saved those Ducks by warning them just in
time, or in having spoiled the plans of that hunter.
He hates a hunter with a terrible gun, does Blacky.
For that matter, so do all the little people of the
Green Forest and the Green Meadows.
So Blacky started out for his breakfast in high spirits.
After breakfast, he flew over to the Big
River to see if Dusky the Black Duck was feeding in
the rushes along the shore. Dusky wasn’t,
and Blacky guessed that he and his flock had been
so frightened by that warning that they had kept away
from there the night before.
“But they’ll come back after a night or
so,” muttered Blacky, as he alighted in the
top of a tree, the same tree from which he had watched
the hunter the afternoon before. “They’ll
come back, and so will that hunter. If he sees
me around again, he’ll try to shoot me.
I’ve done all I can do. Anyway, Dusky
ought to have sense enough to be suspicious of this
place after that warning. Hello, who is that?
I do believe it is Farmer Brown’s boy.
I wish he would come over here. If he should
find out about that hunter, perhaps he would do something
to drive him away. I’ll see if I can call
him over here.”
Blacky began to call in the way he does when he has
discovered something and wants others to know about
it. “Caw, caw, caaw, caaw, caw, caw, caaw!”
screamed Blacky, as if greatly excited.
Now Farmer Brown’s boy, having no work to do
that morning, had started for a tramp over the Green
Meadows, hoping to see some of his little friends
in feathers and fur. He heard the excited cawing
of Blacky and at once turned in that direction.
