The next afternoon he was on hand very early.  He was there before Farmer Brown’s boy arrived, and when he did come, of course the hunter saw him.  He walked down to where Farmer Brown’s boy was hiding in the rushes.  “Hello!” said he.  “Are you the one who was shooting here last night and the night before?”

Farmer Brown’s boy grinned.  “Yes,” said he.

“What luck did you have?” asked the hunter.

“Fine,” replied Farmer Brown’s boy.

“How many Ducks did you get?” asked the hunter.

Farmer Brown’s boy grinned more broadly than before.  “None,” said he.  “I guess I’m not a very good shot.”

“Then what did you mean by saying you had fine luck?” demanded the hunter.

“Oh,” replied Farmer Brown’s boy, “I had the luck to see those Ducks and the fun of shooting,” and he grinned again.

The hunter lost patience.  He tried to order Farmer Brown’s boy away.  But the latter said he had as much right there as the hunter had, and the hunter knew that this was so.  Finally he gave up, and muttering angrily, he went back to his blind.  Again the gun of Farmer Brown’s boy frightened away the Ducks just as they were coming in.

The next afternoon there was no hunter nor the next, though Farmer Brown’s boy was there.  The hunter had decided that it was a waste of time to hunt there while Farmer Brown’s boy was about.

CHAPTER XXVIII:  Blacky Has A Talk With Dusky The Black Duck

   Doubt not a friend, but to the last
   Grip hard on faith and hold it fast.
    — Blacky the Crow.

Every morning Blacky the Crow visited the rushes along the shore of the Big River, hoping to find Dusky the Black Duck.  He was anxious, was Blacky.  He feared that Dusky or some of his flock had been killed, and he wanted to know.  You see, he knew that Farmer Brown’s boy had been shooting over there.  At last, early one morning, he found Dusky and his flock in the rushes and wild rice.  Eagerly he counted them.  There were nine.  Not one was missing.  Blacky sighed with relief and dropped down on the shore close to where Dusky was taking a nap.

“Hello!” said Blacky.

Dusky awoke with a start.  “Hello, yourself,” said he.

“I’ve heard a terrible gun banging over here, and I was afraid you or some of your flock had been shot,” said Blacky.

“We haven’t lost a feather,” declared Dusky.  “That gun wasn’t fired at us, anyway.”

“Then who was it fired at?” demanded Blacky.

“I haven’t the least idea,” replied Dusky.

“Have you seen any other Ducks about here?” inquired Blacky.

“Not one,” was Dusky’s prompt reply.  “If there had been any, I guess we would have known it.”

“Did you know that when that terrible gun was fired there was another terrible gun right over behind those bushes?” asked Blacky.