“I does some shootin’. I hunts with Dad in winter. He traps furs in winter, and he’s took me with him two winters.”
“Did you ever shoot anything?”
“Oh, yes; lots of partridges and rabbits. Last fall I kills a deer and gets a crack at a bear, but misses; and last winter I shoots two foxes.”
“You must be a dandy hunter. I’ve never hunted any yet, but I expect to. Never went before where there was anything to hunt. This is my first gun. I’ve got a shotgun too.”
“That’s the gun for partridges, unless you shoots their heads off with the rifle. Mostly I shoots their heads off with a rifle, but sometimes I misses. Mine’s a 44—Dad’s old one. He got a new 30-30 and gave me his old one.”
“I’d like to see it. You got it with you?”
“Yes, it’s down in the fo’c’sl.”
“Here! Bring your gun, youngster! Bring your gun! Here’s a shot for you!” called Captain Bluntt. “Here now!”
Paul ran forward.