The Boys of Columbia High on the Gridiron Part 17

Seeing Frank curiously examining one of the stools he carried, Bones broke out into a hearty laugh.

"Wondering what peppered that wooden decoy so, eh, Frank? I'll tell you, though you'll never enjoy the story as much as I did the actual thing. I had a cousin up here last winter. He was from New York City, and had never shot at real game, though he was a deadly marksman when it came to the trap, and could break bats and clay pigeons right along."

"I've seen the breed," commented Frank, with a grin.

"Well, when we came crawling out here I forgot that I had asked Benson to put my little flock of decoys out for me. The first thing I knew I heard a bang close to my ear, and then a second shot, after which Cousin Hal jumped up shouting that he had knocked over the entire bunch. He had, but you ought to have seen his look when I sent him wading out to retrieve the game. Still, he laughed himself at the joke, and begged me not to tell it till after he left."

"I guess they'll float about as well as ever, even if weighted down with shot. Have you got a boat up here, Bones?" asked Ralph.

"Sure I have, and a dandy one to shoot out of, being flat-bottomed and steady as a church floor. But I only use it to retrieve the game generally; because you see, we can shoot from the land as the ducks fly over to enter the swamp."

Frank had often heard of this style of shooting, and wanted to try it; so that he was very glad he had come. After the tremendous strain of the morning some relaxation of this kind would be a good thing too, for all of them.

"I told my people not to expect me home to supper; and also that they might be having game tomorrow for dinner, if we were lucky,"

remarked Frank.

"And n.o.body will bother whether I show up or not," observed Ralph, with a nervous little laugh.

"Never mind, old chap, I calculate that there's going to come a decided change in your condition before a great while. You're showing true grit in bearing up as well as you do. Any day you may get the letter that tells you the ones you look for are on the way here. Then your troubles will be all in the past. h.e.l.lo! how's this Bones? Have we arrived?" and Frank looked around curiously when the guide came to a sudden halt.

"Here we are, fellows. You see that abrupt break in the heavy line of trees. It seems to form a sort of avenue, and the ducks in flying toward the swamp just naturally drive into it, following after each other as though it were really a road. In fact, few of them ever enter the swamp by any other way than this."

"If we're going to shoot over a place like this, as the ducks come in, why the decoys?" asked Ralph.

Bones laughed as he replied:

"I generally keep them out here during the season, in a little shelter I have. Nothing like making fellows useful, you know; and while we were coming I thought three could carry them better than one! Sort of making you work your pa.s.sage, see?"

Knowing the ground, and the habits of the waterfowl, Bones quickly placed his two friends. Then they anxiously awaited the coming of the first game.

A sort of routine had been arranged. This was to prevent any waste of ammunition, through two of them shooting at the same quarry.

"Frank, you try the first chap, Ralph the second, and I'll experiment with my new gun when the next pilgrim spins along.

Don't forget that they are swift customers right here, and the chances are you'll shoot back of them," said Bones, as they stood at their posts.

"There, Frank!" exclaimed Ralph, as a couple of dark objects suddenly burst into view, and sped past them.

But Frank was not taken unawares. He had shot ducks more than once before, and knew how to properly gauge their flight. Beginning a little behind the pair he swept his gun forward so as to pa.s.s them; and at just the instant it covered the game in its swinging movement he pressed the trigger.

One of the ducks fell, stone dead, and the other went on with diminished speed as though crippled. Almost instantly the second barrel spoke, and this time down came the second bird.

"Fine!" exclaimed Bones, who had never seen Frank shoot before; "why, really, I'm ashamed to show my clumsiness before such a crack shot."

"None of that, now. And don't believe I can do that sort of work right along. Next time it may be a clean double miss. Ducks are unreliable things. I've known the best of shots to miss, time and again. Ralph, step up and toe the mark. You're next on the docket," laughed Frank, as he hastily replaced the discharged sh.e.l.ls with fresh ones.

"Better retrieve your game while the balance of us keep a lookout.

Otherwise we'll get things mixed, and perhaps lose some of it.

Did you mark the places?" said the host of the little hunt.

"Oh! yes, I always do that. It gets to be a habit with any fellow who hunts much. I think they fell dead, so I oughtn't to have much trouble," replied Frank.

"Beware the oozy spots along the border of the marsh. I've had no end of trouble getting stuck instead of duck," called out Bones, as the other moved away, carrying his gun along with him as a wise hunter always does.

Just as he retrieved the second victim to his accuracy he heard a single shot, and a heavy body fell not ten feet away. Ralph had dropped his first duck also.

"There you are," remarked Frank, throwing the three birds down, as he returned to the rendezvous; "and they do certainly look fine and plump. Reckon you have quite a few muskrats in this old marsh of yours, Bones. I saw a lot of houses in the water, made of sticks and trash?"

"I was told there were. Of course I've seen the little varmints at times, when I've been hiding in a duck-blind; but they never trouble me, and I don't go out of my way to interfere with them.

Ah! there!"

He threw up his gun, and a second later two shots rang out in rapid succession. Quite a bunch of teal had swung into the avenue, heading for the marsh. They were just everlastingly hurrying, as Ralph said, and while Bones succeeded in knocking down a couple, one only wounded, which he never did find, he declared he ought to be ashamed for not doing better.

"Still, I like the feel of the gun all right. I'll do something worth while when I get used to the hang of it," he remarked, as he went off to look for his game.

Then Frank had another chance. Sometimes the ducks were higher up; then again they came at such speed that it was next to impossible to make a hit.

So the fun went on for three-quarters of an hour. It was actually getting dusk, and the flight seemed about over. Ralph had dropped a single duck, and gone off to try and find it, though Bones said he doubted whether he would succeed, because of the gathering gloom.

About five minutes afterwards, as he and Frank were sitting there on the log, exchanging stories of former hunts, they heard Ralph calling.

"h.e.l.lo! what's the matter?" exclaimed Frank, starting up.

"I don't know, but I can give a pretty good guess," remarked Bones; and then elevating his voice, he shouted:

"What d'ye want, Ralph?"

"Better drop over here, please!" came the reply.

"He's in some sort of trouble," suggested Frank, judging from the half apologetic tone of his chum.

"Yes, and I expect stuck in the ooze of the marsh, worse luck!"

grunted Bones.

CHAPTER XIV

THE DANGERS OF THE MUCK HOLE

"Where are you?" called Bones, as he and Frank pushed forward in the gathering dusk.

"Here! Be mighty careful, fellows, or you'll get in too!" came the answer, not far away.

"Told you so," remarked the doctor's son, with a little laugh; "poor Ralph; I pity him, because I've been there myself. When I come alone out here I always carry a short rope along. If I get stuck it helps me out."

"A rope? How under the sun can that help?" demanded a voice close by; showing that they were very near the boy who was stuck in the ooze, and also that he was alive to the inconvenience of his position.