“What do you suppose it is?” demanded George curiously.
“Look,” exclaimed John and as he spoke Grant lifted from the grass a great blue heron. He held it by the feet and turning towards the bush where his companions were he waved his gun. Then he slung the big bird over his shoulder and started to retrace his steps.
George, Fred, and John had watched these proceedings in open-mouthed amazement.
“Well, what do you know about that?” exclaimed George limply.
“I guess he’s got us all right,” sighed Fred. “Let’s skip back to camp before he gets hold of us.”
“We’d better stay and face the music,” said George with a sigh. “Doesn’t that beat all? Just when we thought we had him good and fooled, he turns around and puts the joke on us.”
“I don’t see yet what happened,” exclaimed John.
“Why, he saw another heron, that’s all,” said Fred. “It was a live one too, I guess.”
“Where’s the one you and Pop fixed up for him?”
“Still there behind the log.”