“You’re a long time getting to the shooting, Smith,” said Oliver.
“That’s a true word, sir. We was, for it got light at last, and both me and Billy had our guns ready to pop off, but he warn’t there then. Not a sign of him. Oh, he was a hartful one! He knowed what we was up to, and he goes and gets there in the middle o’ the night, has what he wants, and then off he goes all quiet like before we could see.”
“But you did shoot it at last?”
“Ay, sir, I did, but not that mornin’, which was yesterday, you know. For, Billy, I says, this here game won’t do.”
“Ay, you did, Tommy.”
“You and me ain’t goin’ to be done by a big cock-sparrer sort o’ thing, is we? and he says we warn’t, and we’ll keep on earlier and earlier till we do get him.”
“Well, and what did you do?” asked Oliver, smiling.
“Goes in the middle o’ the night, sir, to be sure, and there we was as quiet as could be; but we didn’t hear nothin’ till just afore sunrise, when there was a cherk, cherk, and a bit of flutterin’ just as we was makin’ up our minds as he was too artful for us. Billy, he gives me a nudge and shoves up the gun and takes aim.”
“But you couldn’t see the bird?” said Oliver.
“No, sir, not yet, but I wanted to be ready so as to get a shot at him the moment he showed hissen, and then if I didn’t recklect as I hadn’t loaded the gun arter giving it a good clean up yes’day, ’cause it were getting rusty.”