"Exactly, but please remember you are not shooting clay pigeons. A duck has an eye that can see the movement of your hand three miles away, remember that—keep your head down, there comes one now!"
"Where?"
"Sh! keep down, I tell you!"
"I am—but where, which side, where is he?"
Again Nan's big dark eyes slowly peered over the top of the blind and the eagle's feather in her hat moved.
With a sharp cry the duck swung out of range and was gone.
"Oh, Jim, I didn't do that. I declare I didn't move! He squawked just for nothing and flew away."
"Yes, of course, he dreamed he saw an eagle after him. Ducks often go to sleep flying and have nightmares."
"I won't do it again, please don't get cross now." She laid her hand on his. He smiled and said nothing.
"You're not angry, Jim?" she asked, peeping around shyly. She was sitting in the front of the boat with her back toward him.