They placed the guns handy, and lying down upon the spruce brush dipped the short blades. Frank found the position a very uncomfortable one to paddle in, and he could not keep his hands from getting wet, though the water was icy cold. They were fast becoming swollen and tingled painfully in the stinging frost. Still, the boys made some progress, and at last looking up at a whisper from Harry, Frank saw a dark patch upon the water some distance in front of him. Harry edged the canoe closer in with the bank, which had a slope of two or three feet on that side.
After that they crept on slowly, because they dared not use much force for fear of splashing, and Frank's wet fingers were rapidly growing useless. The ducks became a little more distinct and he could see other birds moving about in the faint gleam on the opposite bank. Some of them, standing out against the wet surface, looked extraordinarily large, though he could not tell what they were.
At last a sudden eerie screaming broke out close ahead and Frank started and almost dropped his paddle as a second flock of waders rose from the gloom of the bank. They flashed white in the moonlight as they turned and wheeled on simultaneously slanted wings. Then they vanished for a moment as their dusky upper plumage was turned toward the boys, gleamed again more dimly, and the haze swallowed them. They had, however, given the alarm, and the air was filled with the harsh clamor of startled wildfowl.
"Now!" cried Harry. "Before the ducks get up!"
Frank flung in his paddle and pitched his gun to his shoulder, with the barrel resting on the side of the canoe. It sparkled in the moonlight, distracting his sight, and stung his wet hand, but he could see dark bodies rising from the water ahead. As he pressed the trigger Harry's gun blazed across the bows, and following the double crash there was an outbreak of confused sound, the sharp splash of webbed feet that trailed through water, a discordant screaming, and the beat of many wings. Indistinct objects whirled across the moonlight and as Frank with stiffened fingers snapped open the breach Harry's gun once more flung out a train of yellow sparks. Then the smoke hung about them smelling curiously acrid in the frosty air and they seized the paddles to drive the canoe clear of it. When they had left it behind them the lane of water was empty except for one small dark patch upon it, and the clamor of the wildfowl was dying away. They had paddled a few yards when Frank made out that something was stumbling away from them along the shadowy bank, but they were almost abreast of it before he could get another shell into the chamber. The bird lay still when he fired, and Harry picked up the duck on the water, after which he ran the canoe ashore.
"So far as I could see, the rest of them headed across the flat toward the other channel," he said. "It looks soft here, but, as you'll have to get out to pick up the duck yonder, it might be a good idea if you followed them over the sand. I'll work along the creek and it's likely that any birds I put up will fly over you."
This seemed possible to Frank, who realized that the walk would warm him, and he stepped out of the canoe into several inches of slushy sand. Floundering through it, he picked up the duck and threw it to Harry, who shoved the canoe out.
"I won't go far and you had better head back toward the forks in half an hour or so," he said. "I'll probably be waiting."
The canoe slid away, and Frank felt sorry that he had left her when he reached the harder top of the bank. The level flat which stretched away before him into the mist looked very desolate, and the deep stillness had a depressing effect on him. He also remembered that in another hour or less the flood tide would come creeping back across the dreary waste. He could, however, think of no reasonable excuse for rejoining his companion, and turning his back on the channel he set out across the sand. Nothing moved upon it as he plodded on, the silence seemed to be growing deeper, and he had an idea that the haze was denser than it had been. Still, he determined to make the round Harry had suggested and quickened his pace.
It was some time later when he heard a double report that sounded a long way off and he stopped to listen, when the clamor of the wildfowl broke out again. It died away, but he fancied that a faint, rhythmic sound stole out of the silence that followed it. A minute later he was sure that a flight of ducks was crossing the flat and, what was more, that the birds were heading toward him. As yet he could see nothing of them, for there was now no doubt that the mist was thicker. He crouched down as the sound increased, as it occurred to him that he would be too plainly visible standing up in the moonlight on the level flat.