the same man Blacky had watched scatter corn in the rushes every day
for a week. There wasn't the least doubt about it, it was the same
man.

"Ha, ha!" exclaimed Blacky, and nearly lost his balance in his
excitement. "Ha, ha! It is just as I thought!" You see Blacky's
sharp eyes had seen that the man was carrying something, and that
something was a gun, a terrible gun. Blacky knows a terrible gun as
far as he can see it.

The hunter, for of course that is what he was, tramped along the
shore until he reached the bushes which Blacky had noticed close to
the water and which he knew had not grown there. The hunter looked
out over the Big River. Then he walked along where he had scattered
corn the day before. Not a grain was to be seen. This seemed to
please him. Then he went back to the bushes and sat down on a log
behind them, his terrible gun across his knees.

"I was sure of it," muttered Blacky. "He is going to wait there for
those Ducks to come in, and then something dreadful will
happen. What terrible creatures these hunters are! They don't know
what fairness is. No, Sir, they don't know what fairness is. He has
put food there day after day, where Dusky the Black Duck and his
flock would be sure to find it, and has waited until they have
become so sure there is no danger that they are no longer
suspicious. He knows they will feel so sure that all is safe that
they will come in without looking for danger. Then he will fire that
terrible gun and kill them without giving them any chance at all.

"Reddy Fox is a sly, clever hunter, but he wouldn't do a thing like