“Well, he may have been a plain fly,” he conceded.... “Let’s go on hunting. Perhaps we’ll find a real snipe next time.”
They paddled along lazily for the next three-quarters of an hour, talking a little now and then. For the most part, though, they went on in silence, except when Louise giggled over “Fables in Slang,” which she had pulled out of her blouse-pocket, or when someone saw what might be game, or especially good scenery. They went, presently, down an arm of the river that was scarcely more than a creek, and stopped there till afternoon for rest and refreshment. It seemed a charming spot, and almost deserted. Only in the distance one red-roofed farmhouse could be seen, adding to the picturesqueness of the landscape.
There were three small sandwiches left, and the girls, with the aid of paper and pencil, had just worked it out that each person present was entitled to three-quarters of a sandwich. They were trying to decide who should get the three quarters that were cut out of the three sandwiches—it was more a point of honor than necessity, for nobody much wanted any of them—when there was a subdued howl from Tom, who had been lying on his back in the canoe, gazing up at the sky.
Six stately geese were flying in an arrow-shape across the creek, above the canoe. Both boys fired.
“Oh, what a shame to kill them!” mourned Winona; but Tom said hurriedly again that they had special permission from Mr. Gedney, and sat up to see if he had done anything.
“We each got one!” said Billy in a tense whisper. “They’ve dropped on the farther shore—there by the farmhouse!”
The boys pushed the canoe up close and sprang out. They were dashing excitedly across country after their prey. Suddenly the waiting girls heard wild howls, and the tall, angry form of a wild-eyed man in overalls suddenly appeared from nowhere with a pitchfork.
“Oh, he’s chasing the boys!” exclaimed Winona.
“He certainly is!” seconded Louise, and began to giggle. “Listen to him!”
It was really impossible to do anything else.