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.

CHAPTER XXIII:  Blacky Calls Farmer Brown’s Boy

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.