"The first ought to be easy," replied Rob, "seeing how plentiful they are, and how big and tame. I see a dandy piece of wood that would make a good bow with a piece of stout cord I've got in my pocket. Merritt, get some of those straight little canes, growing on the edge of the water. We can make them do for arrows, and, even without feathers, I think I can hit a big frog with one at ten paces away. It'll be fun as well as a profitable business. Frog-hunters, get busy now."
"Here's a long pole, Rob. Shall I take it and steal up close enough to whack a few of the jumpers on the head?" asked Tubby, now entering into the spirit of the game.
Being given permission, and warned not to make too big a noise, lest he frighten all the frogs into jumping, he set about his task. After several failures he finally brought one monstrous greenback frog to where the others were still working.
"I'll show you how to cut off the saddle, and skin the hind legs," said Rob.
Tubby did not altogether like this job. The slimy feeling of the frog rather went against his stomach. Still, after the large hind legs had been duly skinned, they presented so much the appearance of the white meat of a spring chicken that Tubby felt encouraged enough to set forth again.
He had four victims by the time Rob and Merritt pronounced the bow and arrow part of the business in readiness for work.
They kept at it steadily for an hour and more. Rob found considerable excitement and profit in his archery. His arrows could not be wholly depended on, for they were not properly balanced; but the distance was so short that he made numerous fatal shots.
Merritt, too, had secured another long pole, and joined Tubby in his share of the frog hunt. It was exciting enough, and with more or less delicious little thrills connected with it. No doubt the frogs must have enjoyed it immensely; but then, no one bothered asking what they thought of such tactics. A boy's hunger must be allayed, and, if there were only frogs handy, why so much the worse for the "hoppers."
"Whew! Don't you think we've got enough, Rob?" asked Tubby, unable to stand it any longer.
"What's the score?" asked the archer, as he tossed still another great big victim toward the spot where the fat scout had been counting the pile.