Roy’s mind was now in the clouds, now on the earth. Anon it was away in the far-off wilderness, or scampering through the settlements, and presently it was deep down in Silver Lake playing with the fish. Roy himself muttered a word or so, now and then, as he walked along, which gave indication of the whereabouts of his mind at the time.
“Capital fun,” said he, “only it won’t do to stay too long. Poor mother, how she’ll be wearin’ for us! Hallo! ducks, you’re noisy coons, wonder why you get up with such a bang. Bang! that reminds me of the gun. No more banging of you, old chap, if my hand keeps in so well with the bow. Eh! duck, what’s wrong?”
This latter question was addressed to a small duck which seemed in an anxious state of mind, to judge from its motions. Presently a head, as if of a fish, broke the surface of the lake, and the duck disappeared!
“Oh the villain,” exclaimed Roy, “a fish has bolted him!”
After this the lad walked on in silence, looking at the ground, and evidently pondering deeply.
“Nelly,” said he, entering the hut and throwing the grouse at her feet, “here is dinner, supper, and breakfast for you, and please get the first ready as fast as you can, for I’m famishing.”
“Oh, how nice! how did you get them?”
“I’ll tell you presently, but my head’s full of a notion about catching ducks just now.”
“Catching ducks, Roy, what is the notion?”
“Never mind, Nelly, I han’t scratched it out o’ my brain yet, but I’ll tell ’ee after dinner, and we’ll try the plan to-morrow mornin’.”