"A duck?" Harky questioned.
"Not jest a barnyard duck," Mun said, "an' not jest a wild duck neither. It was some big ol' duck, mebbe bigger'n Sue herself, what's been settin' back in the woods for no man knows how many years, jest waitin' to put a spell on Sue."
"What'll we do, Pa?" Harky asked worriedly.
"Watch Duckfoot," Mun declared. "Watch him close an' shoot him the minute we find he's puttin' spells on us. Mebbe he won't. He's anyhow half Sue an' mebbe that'll keep the half that ain't down. Leave him go, Harky."
Harky put Duckfoot down. Just at that moment the single forlorn duck that shared the chicken house with Mun's chickens, chose to stroll past. Duckfoot leaped ecstatically at it, overtook it, bore it down in a flurry of threshing wings, and looked very pleased with himself.
"Sue done that," Mun declared. "She knows what she's fetched on us, an' she's tryin' to make up. But we still got to have a care. Jest as Sue was under a spell in the dark of the moon, Duckfoot is bewitched by ducks."
"What about the duck?" Harky asked practically.
"Take it behind the barn an' pick it," Mun directed. "We'll have it for supper. 'Twas sort of a piddlin' duck anyhows."
