The end of the pole pointed toward the hut, but not directly. It slanted a little to one side in order that when the pigeons lighted on the pole we could get a good raking shot at them. Our pigeons had soft pads of leather called boots sewed round each leg to protect them from the strings which we fastened to them. We tied the strings to the boots of a pigeon, sewed a bandage over his eyes, and tied him to the further end of the pigeon stool. This was the stool pigeon. We also called him the flutterer or hoverer.
"Now give us the flyers."
Amos took out two more pigeons, and we tied long and strong strings to their boots.
"Now they're ready. But there's hardly enough string for the long flyer. We ought to let him go up at least forty feet."
"Cut a little off the string of the short flyer then, and tie it on to the other. The strings were the same length."
We looked round, to see if any pigeons were flying, but none were in sight.
"There don't seem to be any about. I'm afraid, Davy, Pigeon Tuesday won't be a success this time."
"You wait. They'll be here by and by."
"They're f-flying well now. I was f-fishing in Swithin Reed's mill p-pond, yesterday afternoon, and Venus Roe came over and said that Swithin shot a lot of pigeons in the m-morning."