Part 23 (1/2)
”I'd rather watch you--and Duke,” replied Bobby, ”than to shoot squirrels Are there es,” said Mr Kincaid ”This fellow's rather a straggler But there's plenty in the swao after them?”
”Yes,” said Bobby
After that the two used often to follow the edges of the hardwood swamps, the creek bottoms, the hillsides of popples, and--later in the season--the su for that king of garouse
Bobby became accustomed to the roar as the birds leaped into the air, so that he was able to folloith intelligent interest all the ame, but never did his heart fail to leap in response In later years, when he too owned a shotgun, this sudden shock of the nerves seemed to be the required stimulant to key him instantly to his best work A sneaker--that is to say, a bird that flushed without the customary whirr--he was quite apt to miss
Little by little, as he followed Mr Kincaid, he learned the habits of his ga to tih this he never analyzed He did not consciously say to himself; ”It is early in the day, and cold for the time of year, _therefore_ we'll find them in the brush points just off the swa out to the hillsides for the sun after roosting in the swament werebirds in certain cover, that kind of cover ood place for 'pats,'”
said he to himself, and confidently expected to find the thus they would trah the blackthorn thickets; cla over and under the dead-falls and debris of the slashi+ngs; cliht, silvery shafts of the poplars; wandering down the narrow aisles of the old logging roads; plodding doggedly across the unproductive fields that lay between patches of cover; always lured on in the hope ofup a bird here, a bird there, each an adventure in itself And occasionally, once in a great while, they ran against a glorious piece of luck, when the grouse rose in twos and threes, this way, that, and the other, until the air seemed full of them Mr
Kincaid, very intent, shot and loaded as fast as he was able So was richer by two or three birds Again they rong The first grouse to rise ht be the farthest away
Mr Kincaid would snap-shoot at it, only to be overwhel under his very feet Or athe line Then Bobby and Duke would beto do,” said Mr Kincaid, ”is to shoot one bird at a ti of the second before you've killed the first, you won't get either It's a hard thing to learn I haven't got it down pat yet”
The short autumn days went fast Before they knew it the pale sun had touched the horizon and the world was turning cold and gray Then ca laden tramp back to old Bucephalus, or perhaps to town, if they had started out afoot They were always very tired; but, as to Bobby, at least, very happy
Generally speaking they wandered through the country at will Shooting was not then as popular as it is now, nor the farether
Soainst trespass or hunting Then, if the cover seemed especially desirable, Mr Kincaid used sometimes to try to obtain per overlooked the sign, they were ordered off The farh fir swas between hills where Mr Kincaid and Bobby had a very disagreeable experience It was late in the afternoon, so Bobby had becoame on the outskirts of a dense thicket, hesitated, then led the way cautiously into the tangle
”It's pretty thick,” Mr Kincaid advised Bobby; ”you'd better sit on the stump there until I come out”
Bobby did so A moment or so after Mr Kincaid had disappeared, the little boy beca across the stump-dotted field He was a short, thickset man, with a broad face almost entirely covered with a beard, a thick nose, and little, inflay overalls, and carried a pitchfork
”Who's that shooting in here?” he shouted at Bobby as soon as he ithin hearing ”What do you n”
”Don't you want shooting here? No; we didn't see the sign,” replied Bobby
By this time the man had approached, and Bobby could see his bloodshot little eyes flickering with anger
”You lying little snipe,” he roared ”You n You couldn't help it I've a ood”
”What's this?” asked Mr Kincaid's quiet voice
The man whirled about
”Oh, it's you, is it?” he snarled ”Well, what do youon my farm?”
”I didn't knoas your far was prohibited in the second place”