“So they are,” said Mark, smiling with the confidence of his hard-bought experience, “if you know how.”
“Show us then,” said his father, handing him his gun. “We shall never get any this way, and I suppose if we land and try and stalk them they’ll keep running out of shot.”
“Yes,” said Mark. “The major and I followed them for over a mile.”
“Ah, well! let’s see the wise man give us a lesson,” said the mate grimly.
Mark took the gun, and after they had been rowed another hundred yards he bade the men pull in sharply right to the shore, taking his place previously in the bows alongside of Bruff.
The boat touched the sands and Mark leaped out, followed by Bruff, who charged the birds, barking furiously the while, with the same result as before; the birds ceased running, turned to gaze at their enemy, and then took flight to the trees.
“Now, Mr Gregory,” shouted Mark, waiting till he came up, when they fired together and each got a bird.
Following the flock after these had been retrieved and carried to the boat they obtained another, Mark missing an easy shot. Soon after they both missed, and then the mate obtained two with his right and left barrels.
This was carried on for about half an hour, when with a bag of nine birds they stopped, the supply being considered ample to last three or four days.