Dusky awoke with a start. “Hello, yourself,” said he.
“I've heard a terrible gun banging over here, and I was afraid you or some of your flock had been shot,” said Blacky.
“We haven't lost a feather,” declared Dusky. “That gun wasn't fired at us, anyway.”
“Then who was it fired at?” demanded Blacky.
“I haven't the least idea,” replied Dusky.
“Have you seen any other Ducks about here?” inquired Blacky.
“Not one,” was Dusky's prompt reply. “If there had been any, I guess we would have known it.”
“Did you know that when that terrible gun was fired there was another terrible gun right over behind those bushes?” asked Blacky.
Dusky shook his head. “No,” said he, “but I learned long ago that where there is one terrible gun there is likely to be more, and so when I heard that one bang, I led my flock away from here in a hurry. We didn't want to take any chances.”
“It is a lucky thing you did,” replied Blacky. “There was a hunter hiding behind those bushes all the time. I warned you of him once.”