Frank, the Young Naturalist Part 25

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Frank raised his gun to his shoulder, and, as soon as they came within range, he pulled the trigger, and brought down two geese--one stone-dead, and the other with a broken wing. Hardly waiting to see the effect of the shot, he fired his second barrel at the flock, just as they were disappearing over the tops of the trees. They had flown so high, that he hardly expected the shot would prove effective. To his surprise, one of the flock gradually fell behind, and, after trying in vain to support itself, fell slowly through the air, until it almost reached the water; then it seemed to regain the power of using its wings, and began to fly more regularly.

"Try your gun again, Archie," said Frank; "I'm afraid we are going to lose him."

Archie accordingly drew a bead on the goose, but with no better success, and the bird speedily disappeared over the trees.

"Confound my luck!" exclaimed Archie, impatiently. "I'll try and keep my powder dry after this."

"He can't fly far," said Frank. "Let's be lively, and we will have him yet. Here, Brave!" he continued, pointing to the geese in the lake, "fetch 'em out!"

Brave plunged into the water, and made toward the nearest of the geese, which happened to be the one Frank had wounded. As soon as the bird saw him approaching, instead of trying to save himself by flight, he raised himself in the water, elevated his uninjured wing, and set up a loud hiss. But these hostile demonstrations, instead of intimidating the Newfoundlander, served rather to enrage him, and he kept on, with open mouth, ready to seize the game. The moment he came within reach, the goose thrust out his long neck, and, catching Brave by the ear, dealt him a hard blow over the head with his wing. But he did not have time to repeat it, for the dog gave a loud, angry yelp, and, springing forward in the water, seized the goose, and killed it with a single bite; then, turning round, he swam back to the sh.o.r.e, deposited the game at his master's feet, and again plunged in to bring out the others.

"I wonder who that is on the other side of the lake?" said Archie.

"I guess it's Bill Johnson," answered Frank, who had reloaded his gun, and stood holding it in the hollow of his arm. "I saw a dog that looked very much like his bringing out the geese. There he is now!"

And as he spoke the boy stepped out of the bushes, and a loud, shrill whistle echoed across the lake.

"That's Bill," said Archie. "Hallo!" he continued, raising his voice so that William could hear; "wait for us at Uncle Mike's--will you?"

"All right," shouted William, in reply.

And, gathering up his game, he again disappeared in the bushes.

By this time Brave had brought out the last of the geese, and Archie had succeeded in shooting off the wet charge; so they started back toward the road.

Frank led the way, carrying three of the geese; Brave followed close at his heels, carrying the fourth; and Archie brought up the rear, loading his gun as he went.

An hour's walk brought them to Uncle Mike's, where they found William sitting on the fence, waiting for them.

"What luck?" inquired Archie, as they came up.

"Only two," answered William; "but you have been more fortunate."

"Yes," said Archie, "we've got four; and Frank wounded another so badly that he can't fly far. We are going to look for him in the creek, as we go along."

"And I hope we shall get him," said Frank; "for he was the largest of the flock, and I want him for our museum."

The boys walked slowly down the creek, keeping a good look-out for the wounded bird among the reeds along the bank; but they reached the cottage without seeing any signs of him.

"I'm afraid we've lost him," said Archie.

"I'm sorry," said Frank, "for he was a nice, big fellow. Let's go back; perhaps we've overlooked him. I am certain that he could not have flown to the river."

At this moment a slight splas.h.i.+ng in the water, on the opposite side of the creek, attracted their attention, and they discovered their game swimming slowly about among the reeds, as if trying to find some place of concealment.

"Now, Archie," said Frank, dropping the b.u.t.t of his gun to the ground, "there's a chance for you to retrieve your lost reputation."

"And I'll take advantage of it," said Archie, raising his gun to his shoulder.

A loud report followed his words, and the goose, after a few slight struggles, lay motionless on the water. Brave immediately sprang into the creek, and, forcing his way among the reeds, seized the bird and brought it to the sh.o.r.e.

CHAPTER XVI.

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 pa.s.s 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 fis.h.i.+ng-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, sc.r.a.ps 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 mult.i.tude 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 antic.i.p.ate," 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 gra.s.s, 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?"

Frank, the Young Naturalist Part 25

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Frank, the Young Naturalist Part 25 summary

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