The Sallie kept on up the bay until she came opposite to the cabin of the old terrapin hunter, who at once responded to Egan’s lusty hail.
“I want to borrow Bogus for a little while,” shouted the skipper. “And I say, Eph, bring out a lot of chips with you.”
The negro disappeared behind his cabin, and in a few minutes came back again, carrying his hat in his hands, and followed by a little yellow dog. The two got into the canoe, and presently both the dog and the hatful of chips were deposited on the yacht’s deck.
“There is a big bed of ducks off Powell’s Island, and we are going to shoot some of them,” said Egan. “So, perhaps, you had better postpone the cooking of those terrapin until about three o’clock. Be sure and have them ready then, for we shall be hungry.”
The old negro went ashore, leaving his dog and the pile of chips behind him; and the yacht came about and started down the bay again. She held straight for the head of the island, and, running into a little bay thickly lined with trees on both sides, was tied up to an abrupt bank where the water was deep enough to float her. Bogus seemed to know just what he was expected to do; for when the boys, having buckled on their cartridge-belts, shouldered their guns and stepped ashore, he took up his position at Egan’s heels, and stayed there until he was sent out to perform his allotted part in tolling the ducks.
The young wild fowlers, led by Egan, directed their course toward a sheltered cove on the other side of the island, and were presently crawling on their hands and knees through the calamus and dry marsh grass which formed a good cover almost to the water’s edge. The bay seemed to be full of ducks. None of the visitors, except Hopkins, had ever seen so many in one flock before, and they were greatly disappointed to discover that they were far beyond the reach of the heaviest gun in the party. Indeed, it would have required a good rifle to throw a ball into the midst of them, and the course they were following was taking them farther away from the island every moment.
“We shall get no ducks out of that flock,” said Don.
“Then it will be your fault,” replied Egan, confidently. “If you will do good work after I bring them within range, we will have canvas-backs for dinner to-morrow. Now, Bogus, let’s see how smart you are.”
Egan had brought the chips with him in a game-bag. As he spoke, he took one of them out and tossed it into the water, whereupon Bogus jumped to his feet and skipped in after it. He seized the chip, tossed it into the air, caught it when it descended, and played with it with as much apparent delight as a cat plays with a ball of yarn; the visitors watching his antics with the greatest surprise.
“You have read of the curiosity exhibited by the antelope of the Western plains—how hunters have been known to decoy them within gun-shot by simply waving a colored handkerchief above the grass, have you not?” said Egan, by way of explanation. “Well, the canvas-back has just as much curiosity, as you can see for yourselves.”