"Ain't this early in October for duck hunting, Jack? Some of the States don't allow it till November, you know," he inquired, seeking information.
"Yes; and perhaps this fellow is only giving his stools an airing, after all, to see how they float; because the main raft of ducks won't be here till later."
During the day they landed at one or two docks, where the customary groups of staring natives surrounded them, asking questions, examining the clever little craft beside which their own looked cumbersome, though sea-worthy, and giving such a sad mixture of information that in the end Jack was glad he had his reliable charts to fall back on, since one man's account seemed to be exactly contradictory in comparison with the next one.
The boys believed that it would be wise to halt for the night away from any of the settlements along the sound or bay. Perhaps these rough looking fellows might be all right, and just as honest as they make them; but previous experiences had warned Jack and his chums that there are always some bad characters belonging in every isolated town and hamlet; and there was no use tempting such rascals more than seemed necessary.
Accordingly, when the afternoon drew near its end, they began to cast about for a camping place. To the delight of Nick they had been able to pick up a duck here and there, until there were now four on board.
"If we could only get a brace more," he kept saying; "or even one might do, as Josh eats so little; how nice it would be. Jack, don't you suppose, now, you might creep up behind that island yonder, drop ashore, since the law forbids one to shoot ducks from a craft driven by sails or any motive power except a fellow's muscles, and get a shot into the lovely little bunch that is sporting there?"
"Anything to oblige," was the response;
and with that the head of the Tramp was turned aside, so that the skipper could presently jump ashore.
His crawl across the reedy island was not as pleasant as one might wish; but when he fired both barrels at the rising flock, Nick nearly laughed himself sick to see not only two, but five birds fall with as many splashes into the water.
One wounded duck managed to get away. Jack declared it must have dived, and held on to some of the eel grass at the bottom, preferring death to falling into the hands of duck-eating human beings; for this often happens, as every hunter knows.