"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.