CHAPTER XXVII: The Hunter Gives Up
Blacky The Crow didn't know what to think. He couldn't make himself believe that Farmer Brown's boy had really turned hunter, yet what else could he believe? Hadn't he with his own eyes seen Farmer Brown's boy with a terrible gun hide in rushes along the Big River and wait for Dusky the Black Duck and his flock to come in? And hadn't he with his own ears heard the “bang, bang” of that very gun?
The very first thing the next morning Blacky had hastened over to the place where Farmer Brown's boy had hidden in the rushes. With sharp eyes he looked for feathers, that would tell the tale of a Duck killed. But there were no feathers. There wasn't a thing to show that anything so dreadful had happened. Perhaps Farmer Brown's boy had missed when he shot at those Ducks. Blacky shook his head and decided to say nothing to anybody about Farmer Brown's boy and that terrible gun.
You may be sure that early in the afternoon he was perched in the top of his favorite tree over by the Big River. His heart sank, just as on the afternoon before, when he saw Farmer Brown's boy with his terrible gun trudging across the Green Meadows to the Big River. Instead of going to the same hiding place he made a new one farther down.
Then came the hunter a little earlier than usual. Instead of stopping at his blind, he walked straight to the blind Farmer Brown's boy had first made. Of course, there was no one there. The hunter looked both glad and disappointed. He went back to his own blind and sat down, and while he watched for the coming of the Ducks, he also watched that other blind to see if the unknown hunter of the night before would appear. Of course he didn't, and when at last the hunter saw the Ducks coming, he was sure that this time he would get some of them.
But the same thing happened as on the night before. Just as those Ducks were almost near enough, a gun went “bang, bang,” and away went the Ducks. They didn't come back again, and once more a disappointed hunter went home without any.
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.
Dusky shook his head. “No,” said he, “but I learned long ago that where there is one terrible gun there is likely to be more, and so when I heard that one bang, I led my flock away from here in a hurry. We didn't want to take any chances.”
“It is a lucky thing you did,” replied Blacky. “There was a hunter hiding behind those bushes all the time. I warned you of him once.”
“That reminds me that I haven't thanked you,” said Dusky. “I knew there was something wrong over here, but I didn't know what. So it was a hunter. I guess it is a good thing that I heeded your warn-ing.”
“I guess it is,” retorted Blacky dryly. “Do you come here in daytime instead of night now?”
“No,” replied Dusky. “We come in after dark and spend the night here. There is nothing to fear from hunters after dark. We've given up coming here until late in the evening. And since we did that, we haven't heard a gun.”
Blacky gossiped a while longer, then flew off to look for his breakfast; and as he flew his heart was light. His shrewd little eyes twinkled.
“I ought to have known Farmer Brown's boy better than even to suspect him,” thought he. “I know now why he had that terrible gun. It was to frighten those Ducks away so that the hunter would not have a chance to shoot them. He wasn't shooting at anything. He just fired in the air to scare those Ducks away. I know it just as well as if I had seen him do it. I'll never doubt Farmer Brown's boy again. And I'm glad I didn't say a word to anybody about seeing him with a terrible gun.”
Blacky was right. Farmer Brown's boy had taken that way of making sure that the hunter who had first baited those Ducks with yellow corn scattered in the rushes in front of his hiding place should have no chance to kill any of them. While appearing to be an enemy, he really had been a friend of Dusky the Black Duck and his flock.
CHAPTER XXIX: Blacky Discovers An Egg
Blacky is fond of eggs, as you know. In this he is a great deal like other people, Farmer Brown's boy for instance. But as Blacky cannot keep hens, as Farmer Brown's boy does, he is obliged to steal eggs or else go without. If you come right down to plain, everyday truth, I suppose Blacky isn't so far wrong when he insists that he is no more of a thief than Farmer Brown's boy. Blacky says that the eggs which the bens lay belong to the hens, and that he, Blacky has just as much right to take them as Farmer Brown's boy. He quite overlooks the fact that Farmer Brown's boy feeds the biddies and takes the eggs as pay. Anyway, that is what Farmer Brown's boy says, but I do not know whether or not the biddies understand it that way.
So Blacky the Crow cannot see why he should not help himself to an egg when he gets the chance. He doesn't get the chance very often to steal eggs from the hens, because usually they lay their eggs in the henhouse, and Blacky is too suspicious to venture inside. The eggs he does get are mostly those of his neighbors in the Green Forest and the Old Orchard. But once in a great while some foolish hen will make a nest outside the henhouse somewhere, and if Blacky happens to find it the black scamp watches every minute he can spare from other mischief for a chance to steal an egg.
Now Blacky knows just what a rogue Farmer Brown's boy thinks he is, and for this reason Blacky is very careful about approaching Farmer Brown or any other man until he has made sure that he runs no risk of being shot. Blacky knows quite as well as any one what a gun looks like. He also knows that without a terrible gun, there is little Farmer Brown or any one else can do to him. So when he sees Farmer Brown out in his fields, Blacky often will fly right over him and shout “Caw, caw, caw, ca-a-w!” in the most provoking way, and Fanner Brown's boy insists that he has seen Blacky wink when he was doing it.
But Blacky doesn't do anything of this kind around the buildings of Farmer Brown. You see, he has learned that there are doors and windows in buildings, and out of one of these a terrible gun may bang at any time. Though he has suspected that Farmer Brown's boy would not now try to harm him, Blacky is naturally cautious and takes no chances. So when he comes spying around Farmer Brown's house and barn, he does it when he is quite sure that no one is about, and he makes no noise about it. First he sits in a tall tree from which he can watch Farmer Brown's home. When he is quite sure that the way is clear, he flies over to the Old Orchard, and from there he inspects the barnyard, never once making a sound. If he is quite sure that no one is about, he sometimes drops down into the henyard and helps himself to corn, if any happens to be there. It was on one of these silent visits that Blacky spied something which he couldn't forget. It was a box just inside the henhouse door. In the box was some hay and in that hay he was sure that he had seen an egg. In fact, he was sure that he saw two eggs there. He might not have noticed them but for the fact that a hen had jumped down from that box, making a terrible fuss. She didn't seem frightened, but very proud. What under the sun she had to be proud about Blacky couldn't understand, but he didn't stay to find out. The noise she was making made him nervous. He was afraid that it would bring some one to find out what was going on. So he spread his black wings and flew away as silently as he had come.
As he was flying away he saw those eggs. You see, as he rose into the air, he managed to pass that open door in such a way that he could glance in. That one glance was enough. You know Blacky's eyes are very sharp. He saw the hay in the box and the two eggs in the hay, and that was enough for him. From that instant Blacky the Crow began to scheme and plan to get one or both of those eggs. It seemed to him that he never, never, had wanted anything quite so much, and he was sure that he would not and could not be happy until he succeeded in getting one.