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.