"What's the matter? Are you all right?" and a boat was run ashore, and Dick and Mary, well wrapped up, stepped out.
Dick had been spending the evening at Mr. Merivale's, and just as he was leaving the house, the bright tongue of flame on the opposite side of the broad alarmed him, and Mary insisted upon coming with him to see what mischief her brother had been perpetrating.
They rowed back, followed by the fitful glare of the fire, which shone in their eddying wake, amid the clamour of wild-fowl startled into flight by the unusual apparition. Then as Mary was silently admiring the strange weird scene, there was a blinding flash, followed by two loud reports, which made her start and scream, and then two splashes in the water, as two ducks out of a number which had been passing over the boats fell to the aim of Frank and Jimmy.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Punt-shooting on Breydon.—A Narrow Escape.
The Christmas holidays had commenced for the boys. Frank had a consultation with Bell, which ended in Bell's borrowing a duck-shooting punt from a neighbour, and Dick's looking up the big duck-gun from his father's lumber-room. The punt was a flat-bottomed one, pointed at both ends and covered fore and aft, so as to form two watertight compartments. In the bows was a rest for the gun to lie upon. As the gun took a pound of shot at a load, Frank was rather nervous about firing it off, for the recoil, if not broken by mechanical appliances, would have dislocated his shoulder. So he bought some india-rubber door-springs, and with them constructed an apparatus to take off the recoil of the gun, and, lest it should by any chance hit his shoulder, he got Mary to make a stout cushion, which he fixed to the butt.
Reports came that Breydon Water was swarming with wild-fowl, so, taking Bell with them as a guide and instructor, and with the shooting-punt in tow instead of their own, they set sail for Yarmouth, and sailing up Breydon Water they moored the yacht by the Berney Arms, a public-house situate where the Yare debouches into Breydon.
As the night fell they could see and hear wild-fowl of various kinds flying to and settling on the muds. Dick preferred staying on board the yacht, for his frame was not yet so inured to winter cold as it had been to summer heat, and the other two, with Bell, set out in the punt about eight o'clock. They rowed down Breydon Water with the last of the ebb, and then floated and paddled up again as the tide rose. Bell crouched in the stern and worked the two short paddles by which the punt was propelled when approaching the birds. Frank lay in the bows, with the big gun in position in front of him, and Jimmy cuddled up in the middle, armed with Frank's light double-barrel, ready to knock over any of the wounded birds which might try to escape. The night was rather light with the brightness from the stars, which shone resplendently from the deep, dark blue, and in the east the moon lifted a faint curved horn above the trees.
"There are a lot of birds on that mud-bank; I can hear them quite plainly," whispered Frank to Bell.