The hunter who had come down the Big River in a boat
and landed near the place where Dusky the Black Duck
and his flock had found nice yellow corn scattered
in the rushes night after night saw Blacky the Crow
leave the top of a certain tree as he approached.
“It is well for you that you didn’t wait
for me to get nearer,” said the hunter.
“You are smart enough to know that you can’t
play the same trick on me twice. You frightened
those Ducks away last night, but if you try it again,
you’ll be shot as surely as your coat is black.”
Then the hunter went to his blind which, you know,
was the hiding-place he had made of bushes and rushes,
and behind this he sat down with his terrible gun
to wait and watch for Dusky the Black Duck and his
flock.
Now you remember that farther along the shore of the
Big River was Farmer Brown’s boy, hiding in
a blind he had made that afternoon. The hunter
couldn’t see him at all. He didn’t
have the least idea that any one else was anywhere
near. “With that Crow out of the way,
I think I will get some Ducks to-night,” thought
the hunter and looked at his gun to make sure that
it was ready.
Over in the West, jolly, round, red Mr. Sun started
to go to bed behind the Purple Hills, and the Black
Shadows came creeping out. Far down the Big
River the hunter saw a swiftly moving black line just
above the water. “Here they come,”
he muttered, as he eagerly watched that black line
draw nearer.
Twice those big black birds circled around over the
Big River opposite where the hunter was crouching
behind his blind. It was plain that Dusky, their
leader, remembered Blacky’s warning the night
before. But this time there was no warning.
Everything appeared safe. Once more the flock
circled and then headed straight for that place where
they hoped to find more corn. The hunter crouched
lower. They were almost near enough for him to
shoot when “bang, bang” went a gun a short
distance away.
Instantly Dusky and his flock turned and on swift
wings swung off and up the river. If ever there
was a disappointed hunter, it was the one crouching
in that blind. “Somebody else is hunting,
and he spoiled my shot that time,” he muttered.
“He must have a blind farther down. Probably
some other Ducks I didn’t see came in to him.
I wonder if he got them. Here’s hoping
that next time those Ducks come in here first.”
He once more made himself comfortable and settled
down for a long wait. The Black Shadows crept
out from the farther bank of the Big River.
Jolly, round red Mr. Sun had gone to bed, and the first
little star was twinkling high overhead. It was
very still and peaceful. From out in the middle
of the Big River sounded a low “quack”;
Dusky and his flock were swimming in this time.
Presently the hunter could see a silver line on the
