CHAPTER XVII
MR. WEBSTER'S GUNS
It was about a week after the boys' hunting trip when Mr. Oliver'snearest neighbor, Mr. Webster, drove up to the ranch in a dilapidatedwagon. It was dark when he arrived, for the days were rapidly gettingshorter. When Jake had taken his horse away he laid what appeared to bea small armory on the kitchen table and sat down by the stove. He was ayoung man with a careless, good-humored expression, and Harry asideinformed Frank that his ranch was not much of a place.
"I've brought you my guns along," said Mr. Webster, addressing Mr.Oliver, and then looked down at the dog, who had walked up to him in themeanwhile and now stood regarding him with its head on one side."Hello!" he added, patting it, "I'd 'most forgotten you. You havemanaged to put up with him, Miss Oliver?"
Miss Oliver said that she had grown fond of him, and the dog, afterstanding up with a paw upon the man's knee, dropped down on all fours atthe sound of her voice and trotted back to her without waiting foranother pat.
"I always had a notion he was an ungrateful as well as an ordinarybeast," said Mr. Webster. "Would you have fancied my dog would leave melike that after all I've done for him? I guess I've laid into him with'most everything about the ranch from the grubhoe handle to the ridingquirt."
Mr. Oliver laughed. "But why have you brought your guns?"
"For you to take care of. My place gets damp in winter without the stoveon and I'm going away for a month or two. I've taken on a log-bridgecontract with a fellow I used to work with, on one of the new settlementroads. The man who's been clearing land up the creek took the few headof stock I had off my hands and the fruit trees will grow along allright without worrying anybody until I get back again. If one hadn't todo so much cutting every now and then, they'd be a long sight handierthan raising stock."
"Well," Mr. Oliver assured, "I think we can promise to look after theguns. I didn't know you had so many of them."
Mr. Webster arose and walked toward the table. "Though I never was agreat shot, guns are rather a hobby of mine. I needn't say anythingabout these two--single-shot Marlin, Winchester repeater--but theold-timers seem to have a notion that a man must excuse himself forkeeping a scatter gun. This"--and he picked up what seemed to Frank ahandsome single barrel--"is a thing I bought for a few dollars last timeI was in Portland. I allowed she would do to keep the pigeons off myoats. Not much of a gun, but she throws out the shell." Then he took upa double gun with the brown rubbed off the barrels, leaving brightpatches. "This one's different; there's some tone about her. A sport Ionce had boarding with me gave her to me when he went away. Said I'dgiven him a great time, and as he was fixed, it might be two or threeyears before he could get out into the woods again."
He sat down on the table and looked over with a smile at the boys. "Idon't know any reason why you two shouldn't have those guns until I comeback; they'll keep better if they're used and rubbed out once in awhile, and there's a box of shells in the wagon. You can't call yourselfa sport until you can drop a flying bird with the scatter gun, andthere's considerably more to it than most of the old-timers who canonly plug a deer with a rifle seem to think."
He evidently noticed the interest in Frank's face, for he proceeded todemonstrate, standing up with the double gun held across him a littleabove his waist.
"Now," he added, "you don't want to aim, poking the gun about. You keepit down and your eyes on the bird, until you're ready, and then pitch itup right on the spot first time--it's better with both eyes open, if youcan manage it." The gun went in to his shoulder and Frank heard thestriker click, after which the man swung the muzzle half a foot or so."Say you missed. You've still got the second barrel--"
They heard no more, for there was an appalling crash, a short cry fromMiss Oliver, and a yelp from the dog who jumped into the air, while afilmy cloud of smoke drifted about the room. When it cleared Mr.Webster, who had opened the door, sat down on the table looking verysheepish and turned toward Miss Oliver.
"I'm sorry--dreadful sorry," he observed contritely. "I hadn't the leastnotion there was anything in the thing."
Mr. Oliver glanced at the ragged hole high up in the log wall and thenlooked at Mr. Webster with ironical amusement in his eyes.
"Your instructions were good as far as they went, but you have forgottenone rather important point." He turned to the boys. "It's this. Neverbring a gun of any kind into a house without first opening the magazineor breach, and if there's a shell in it, immediately take it out. It's aprecaution that's as simple as it's effective, and though there wasperhaps some excuse for an accident in the old days when a man couldn'treadily empty his gun unless he fired off the charge, there's none now."
"Sure," agreed Mr. Webster, who seemed to be getting over hisconfusion, for he addressed the boys again. "With winter coming on, thebest sport I know with a scatter gun is shooting flighting duck, andthere's plenty of them along the beach. They've a way of moving aroundin flocks between the light and dark, which is the best time, though youcan get them through the night if there's not too bright a moon. A goodplace would be those patches of sand and mud behind the islands,especially when the tide's just leaving the flats. Take the sloop orcanoe along sometime and try it."
The boys thanked him and Frank's eyes glistened as he handled the lightsingle gun.
"What are you going to do with your team?" asked Mr. Oliver, changingthe subject.
"Anson down by Nare's Hill will take them for their keep, but I mighthave made a few dollars out of them if I'd been staying on."
"How's that?"
"Well," in a significant tone, "a man came along three or four nightsago. I don't know where he came from, and I don't know where he went--hejust walked in with the lamp lit when I was getting supper. He wanted toknow if I was open to hire him a team for a night or two."
"What kind of a man?"
"A stranger. He looked like a sailor and seemed liberal. Said he wantedthe team particularly, and if I'd have them handy when he turned up weneedn't quarrel about the figure. That must have meant I could chargemost what I liked."
"What did you say?"
Mr. Webster smiled. "I just told him the horses were promised and Icouldn't make the deal. Anyway"--and he added this in a differentvoice--"I'd no notion of going back on you."
"Thanks," said Mr. Oliver quietly, and they talked about other mattersuntil Webster, making a few more excuses to Miss Oliver, drove away.When he had gone she looked at her brother and laughed softly.
"I was startled but not very much astonished when the gun went off," shesaid. "The little incident was so characteristic of the man."
The next day the boys commenced practicing at flung-up meat cans withthe cartridges he had given them and in a week they could hit one everynow and then at thirty yards. Soon afterward Mr. Oliver went away. Heonly told the boys that he was going to Tacoma, but Harry thought itpossible that he wanted to see Mr. Barclay, since Mr. Webster's storymade it clear that the dope runners were about again. He announcedingenuously that they had better try the flight-shooting while hisfather was away, because if they came back all right with several duckshe would probably not object to their going another time. Miss Oliverseemed doubtful when they casually mentioned the project to her, but asshe did not actually forbid it they set out with the sloop late oneafternoon, taking the dog with them.
It was falling dusk and the tide had been running ebb two or three hourswhen they beat in under the lee side of one of the islands they hadpassed on a previous occasion on their way to the settlement. Afteranchoring the sloop where she would lie afloat at low water somedistance off the beach they got into the canoe and paddling ashorecrossed the island, which was small and narrow. It was covered with thinunderbrush and dwarf firs, and on its opposite side a broad stretch ofwet sand and shingle with pools and creeks in it stretched back towardthe channel, which cut it off from the mainland.
To the eastward, the pale silver sickle of a crescent moon hung low inthe sky, but westward a wide band of flaring crims
on and saffron stillburned beneath dusky masses of ragged cloud and the uncovered sandsgleamed blood-red in the fading glow. A cold wind stirred the pines toan eerie sighing, and the splash of a tiny surf came up faintly from theouter edge of the sands. The whole scene struck Frank as very forbiddingand desolate, and he fancied that there was a threat of wind in the sky.Something in the loneliness troubled him, and for no particular reasonhe felt half sorry that he had come. He realized that it would have beenmuch more cozy in the sloop's cabin than upon that dreary beach, and hesaid something about the weather to Harry.
"We'll be sheltered here if the breeze does come up, and this looks justthe place where we ought to get a duck," his companion answered. "Therearen't many spots like it around this part of the coast, where we'vegenerally deeper water. Perhaps we'd better move on a little neareryonder clump of firs. They'll hide us from any birds that come sailingdown to the flats."
"What's the matter with the dog?" Frank asked. "What's he snuffing at?"
The animal was trotting about with his nose upon the ground and wouldnot come when they called him.
"I don't know," said Harry carelessly. "Perhaps somebody's been acrossthe island lately, though I don't think it's often a white man landshere."
They took up their stations a little apart from each other among somevery rough boulders, with the nearest of the firs on a rocky ridge somethirty or forty yards away from them. Their ragged branches cut in asharp ebony pattern against the sky, which was duskily blue. It was verycold and the wind seemed fresher, for the trees were rustling andmoaning, and the calling of distant wildfowl came up through theincreasing murmur of the surf.
Frank's boots had suffered from hard wear in the bush, and, as he hadstumbled into a pool, his feet were very wet, but he crouched behind aboulder, clutching the single-barreled gun with cold fingers, andwatching the sky beyond the fir tops, for what seemed a considerabletime. Nothing moved across it except a long wisp of torn-edged cloud,and he was commencing to wonder whether it would not be better to goback to the sloop when Harry called softly, and he heard a new sound inthe darkness somewhere beyond the firs. It suggested the regularmovement of a row of fans, which was the best comparison that occurredto him, for there was a kind of measured beat in it, and in another fewmoments he recognized it as the rhythmic stroke of wings. Then a doubleline of dark bodies spreading out from a point in the shape of a wedgeappeared close above him against the sky.
He saw that they had long necks, but that was all, for they were comingon with an extraordinary swiftness. There was a crash as Harry's gunflung a streak of red fire into the darkness. Then Frank pitched up thesingle barrel, pulling hard upon the trigger as the butt struck hisshoulder. He felt the jar of it and saw a whirling blaze, after which heswung around when Harry's gun flashed again.
The wedge, which had scattered, was reuniting. He could just see itdotted upon the sky, but he fancied that one dark object had comewhirling down and struck the flats outshore of him a few secondsearlier.
"One, sure!" cried Harry. "I've an idea there's a cripple, too, trailingon the ground. Where's that dog? I wonder if he'd hunt it up?"
They called, but there was no sign of the animal.
"He'd probably sit down and eat it, if he got it," said Frank, laughing."As he isn't here, we'd better get after the birds."
They soon picked up the dead one, a mallard, Harry said; but it was someminutes before they saw the other fluttering across a patch of wet sand.Breaking into a run they were astonished to find that they did not getmuch nearer, and it must be admitted that Frank fired again withoutstopping it. After that, it led them through several pools and runletsof water, until at a flash of Harry's gun it lay still, but they werealmost up to their knees in a little channel before they retrieved it.
"I wonder how long we'll have to wait before some more ducks come," saidHarry as they made their way back to the boulders. Then he suddenlylooked about him. "Where can that dog have gone?"
They called a second time, but there was still no answer, and while theylistened it struck Frank that the sound of the surf was growing moredistinct.
"He seemed to be trailing something when I last saw him," he answered."I don't feel keen on going after him. The top of the island's rough.Perhaps, we'd better wait here until he comes."
They waited for about ten minutes and then a succession of quick barksreached them, apparently from across the island. There was somethingstartling in the sound and Frank turned sharply toward his companion.
"He doesn't bark like that for nothing. Hadn't we better go along?" hesuggested.
They started on the moment, stumbling among the boulders and splashinginto pools. The going was no easier when they reached the firs, but theybroke through them somehow, and when at length they approached thebeach, which was steep on that side, the dog came bounding toward themand then ran back with a growl to the edge of the water. Looking aroundwith strained attention, Frank made out the sloop, a dim, dark shapeupon the water, for the moon was covered now. After that he ran downtoward the edge of the tide, but there was nothing unusual to be seen,though the dog again yelped savagely. As he stopped close beside theanimal Harry's voice reached him.
"Where's the canoe?" he cried.
It was a moment or two before Frank saw her, and then he started andcast a quick glance at the strip of beach left uncovered by the ebbingtide. The breeze was off the shore, and on arriving they had thrown overa lump of iron with a rope made fast to it and then paddled the canoeashore and shoved her out again to drift off as far as the rope wouldallow her, in order to avoid dragging her down over the rough stoneswhen they went away. Now she seemed farther off than she should havebeen, and in another moment he realized that she was moving.
"She's adrift!" he shouted.
"Then we will have to get her," Harry answered.
Frank laid down his gun and threw off his jacket. Harry could swimbetter than he could, but Harry was some distance back and the beach wasvery rough, while it was clear that every moment would increase thedistance between it and the canoe. He struck his knees against somethingwhich hurt as he floundered into the water stumbling among the stones,but that did not matter then, and as soon as it was deep enough he flunghimself down. A horrible chill struck through him as he swung his leftarm out, and he was badly hampered by his boots and clothes, and thoughhe swam savagely the canoe was still some way in front of him when atlength he turned breathlessly upon his breast. What was worse, she wassteadily drifting farther off shore.
Chilled and anxious as he was, he thought quickly. He was far fromcertain that he could get back to the beach, and even if he did so, hewould have to spend the night wet through without any means of making ashelter. The sloop was lying a good way out and he did not think thatHarry could swim so far in that cold water. He was quite sure that hecould not, and it was evident that there was nothing for it but toovertake the canoe.
For what seemed a very long time he swam desperately, and then just ashe was almost alongside the craft something came up behind him andseized his arm. Turning his head with a half-choked cry, he saw that itwas the dog, who apparently intended to stick fast to him. The animal,however, hampered him terribly, and flinging it off he made a lasteffort and contrived to clutch the canoe before it seized him again.Holding on by the low stern he tried to recover his breath, while hewondered if he could manage to lift himself in. It seemed to him that ifhe failed to do it at that moment he could not expect to succeedafterward, in which case he would in all probability have to let gobefore very long. Setting his lips he made the attempt, and fallingheadforemost into the canoe he lay still for a few moments gasping,until he rose and pulled the dog on board. Then he hauled up the iron,which was still attached to the rope, though it was not upon the bottom,and found a paddle. Two or three minutes later he was back at the beach,and Harry got in.
"Make for the sloop as fast as you can," he said.
Frank, now chilled to the bone, was glad to paddle, and they were soonalongs
ide. Harry handed him up the birds and guns when he got on board,and then made the painter fast.
"I'll start the stove first thing while you tie two reefs in themainsail," he said. "I guess we'll want them, and the work will warmyou."
He disappeared below, and before he came out again Frank had managed toget the tack and leach down, which was not so difficult now that thesail lay along the boom.
Harry gave him a quick look.
"Go in and strip yourself," he said. "There's a blanket forward and somecoffee in the can. I'll be down by the time you have wrung out yourthings."