CHAPTER XI.
THE HIDDEN SPORTSMEN.
Taking turns, the boys rose several times during the night andreplenished the fire. At best, the bough bed was none too comfortable,but toward morning both lads slept soundly for some time.
Awaking suddenly after this period of slumber, Sage lifted himself tohis elbow and listened, impressed by the hazy conviction that he hadbeen aroused by an unusual sound. The fire had sunk to a mass of coalsand embers, from which emanated a faint glow that barely reached acrossthe stone hearth of the fireplace. Beyond that dim gleam of light theinterior of the camp was wrapped in dense darkness. The wind no longerroamed amid the treetops, and not even a breath came down the chimney todisturb the gray ashes in the fireplace.
Fred’s heart thumped annoyingly, while his ears were reaching out for arepetition of the sound that had awakened him; and, when he had begun tothink it must have been a creation of his imagination or dreams, it cameagain.
It was like footsteps—stealthy, cautious footsteps, which, however,seemed to move a bit uncertainly in the darkness. It seemed like one ormore persons walking in the woods a short distance from the camp andoccasionally stumbling a bit, although moving slowly and withconsiderable caution. The sounds were receding.
“It must be some straying animal,” thought Fred.
Fainter and fainter grew the sounds. Once or twice there came acracking, as of dead branches beneath a heavy foot, and at last thelistening lad heard something that sent a shock through him. It was likethe suppressed murmur of human voices, and was followed immediately by alow, soft, short whistle.
Sage grasped Hooker and gave him a shake.
“Hey? What is it?” mumbled Roy, awakened.
“Hush!” breathed Fred excitedly. “There’s someone prowling around thiscamp. Don’t make a noise. Listen.”
Breathless, they listened for a full minute, but now the woods seemedsilent and lifeless, and not a thing could they hear.
“Guess you’re mistaken, Fred,” said Roy in a low tone. “You must havebeen dreaming.”
“I wasn’t dreaming,” asserted Sage positively; “I never was more wideawake in all my life. Keep still a little longer.”
For a long time they remained silent, gradually growing tired andcramped by the rigid tensity of their bodies.
“They’ve gone,” decided Sage at last.
“They?” questioned Roy. “Was there more than one?”
“Two, at least. I heard them talking.”
“Oh, say, Fred, you must be mistaken. Who would come prowling around inthese black woods at this hour?”
“I haven’t an idea who it was, but I’ll stake my life on it that it wassomebody. Nothing in the world could convince me that I was mistaken.”
“Oh, well, if you’re so positive——But it seems ridiculous, impossible,preposterous. It’s pitch dark, and no one would be wandering throughthese woods under such circumstances.”
Fred threw off his blanket and got up. “I don’t blame you for thinkingso, and I would say the same if I had not heard them. What makes it allthe more unaccountable is the fact that they were sneaking. They wereusing the utmost caution in their movements, Hooker, and when a personsneaks he’s up to something.”
“Perhaps,” said Roy, with an attempt at persiflage, “it was their designto murder and rob us for our vast wealth.”
“Whatever their design may have been,” said Sage, putting some small drywood on the coals of the fire, “it was not honest and open. People donot creep around through the night like cut-throats unless they’re up tosomething that won’t bear inspection.”
“If I didn’t know you as well as I do,” said Roy, “I’d say you had a badattack of nerves. What time is it, anyhow?”
A little flame leaped up from the dry wood, and by the light of thisSage looked at his watch. “It’s almost five o’clock,” he answered insurprise.
“Jingoes!” exclaimed the other boy, rising with a bound. “It’s time wewere getting out. With sunrise an hour away, we’ve got to do some tallhustling.”
Fred agreed to this, and, although still disturbed and perplexed overwhat he had heard, he imitated Roy in losing no time about thepreparations to set forth. They pulled on their boots, gray sweaters andcoats, and gathered up the guns, ammunition and decoys. Then the doorwas opened, and they went out into the blackness of the last hour ofnight. The sky must have been overcast, for above the treetops there wasno gray hint of light to suggest the coming dawn. The air was still andimpregnated with the coldness that suggested Thanksgiving, turkey, plumpudding and skating.
“I know the best way,” said Hooker. “Follow me close.”
Even though Roy knew the way, as they proceeded toward the pond Sage wasimpressed by the conviction that they made at least double the noisethat had been made by the unknown prowlers. Reaching the pond, theyhurried forward toward the blind, but only for Hooker, they would havepassed it. Ankle deep, they waded out through the swishing grass andreeds, and found the old raft where it had been left.
“Only one of us can work on the raft,” said Roy. “You take the guns intothe blind, while I set the decoys.”
With no time to waste, Roy worked as swiftly as possible. From the blindFred could see the dark figure of his chum, kneeling on the raft, as hespread the decoys out so that they would float upon the water in anatural manner and anchored them with the weights. As soon as this wasdone, Hooker poled the old raft back into the cover of the reeds andhurried to join Sage.
“Barely made it,” he chuckled. “There’s one thing we have to thank yourprowling friends for; if we’d slept half an hour longer, it’s likely wewould have gotten out here too late for the first flights. It’s gettinglight now in the east.”
It was true that far over the eastern end of the pond a dull, grayishlight was beginning to make itself apparent low down upon the horizon,and as this slowly spread it was reflected on the glassy, unrippledsurface of the water.
“Get ready for shooting,” said Hooker eagerly, as he broke his gun andthrust two shells into the barrels.
“I’m loaded up already,” stated Fred, settling down with his repeater ina position which would enable him to shoot toward the decoys as well aswatch the open stretch of the pond, up which the birds were expected tocome from the eastward.
Hooker knelt and tried aiming over the top of the blind, swinging hisgun to follow the movements of some imaginary ducks.
“All right,” he laughed softly; “let ’em come.”
With each passing moment the grayness in the east continued to spread,until they could see the wooded outlines of the shores, bordered by deepshadows. Morning did not break with a blush, but seemed to awakenreluctantly and heavily, like a person aged and weary. Its chill bittheir noses, and would have benumbed their fingers, only for the heavyprotecting gloves they wore.
Suddenly Fred gave a low, electrifying hiss. “Birds!” he whispered,snatching the loose glove from his right hand. “Here they come!”
Their nerves atingle, they crouched low, peering forth from the blind.Against the eastern sky they could see some small, black, swiftly movingspecks, which they knew were ducks coming up the pond and doubtlessheaded for the feeding grounds at the western end. The guns were heldready for quick use, while the boys watched those black specks comingnearer and nearer, skimming through the air slightly higher than thetreetops on the shore.
“They’ll come in here sure!” breathed Hooker. “Be ready to nail themwhen they settle. Fire when they discover the decoys aren’t the realthing and start to rise again.”
But barely had he uttered the words when, from a mass of swamp bushes ona low point that thrust itself out into the pond a short distance away,two puffs of smoke leaped upward, followed by the reports of two guns,and, short-stopped in their flight, two of the ducks came tumblingdownward to splash into the water. Immediately, with quacks of alarm,the others rose higher and whirled away. A third shot w
as fired from thepoint, but apparently it was a clean miss, as not one of the frightenedand fleeing ducks betrayed a symptom of being hit.
Thunderstruck, Sage and Hooker stared dumbly toward the cover from whichthe unknown hunters had fired. After a time Roy savagely exclaimed:
“What do you think of that! Wouldn’t it kill you dead!”
“It killed our chance at those birds,” returned Fred, as he regretfullywatched them disappearing above the tree tops. “Who the dickens can itbe?”
“We ought to find out pretty quick. They’ll have to pick up those twoducks.”
Eagerly and wrathfully they continued to watch, and after some momentsthey saw a small object moving out from the point toward the floatingducks.
“They’ve got a retriever,” growled Sage, with increased disgust.“They’re lying low and sending the dog to bring their game.”
“Confound their hides!” raged Hooker. “They’re going to spoil our fun,just as true as you live. I’d like to punch their heads!”
“It would be a great satisfaction,” said Sage bitterly.
“Look here, old man,” said Roy, smitten by a thought, “there are yoursneaking prowlers. They are the gentlemen who woke you as they passedthe camp. I’ll bet anything they had just come in by the old wood-road.”
“I’m inclined to think you’re right,” admitted Fred. “But why were theyso careful about making a noise? Hook, they must have known there wassomeone in that camp.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if you had stated the reason for their caution.Furthermore, they must be wise to the way the ducks usually fly here,and they have the advantage of us by hiding on that point.”
One after another, the dog retrieved the dead birds and carried them tothe point, finally disappearing from view.
“If some of the birds will only keep far enough from that point, we mayget some shooting yet, old man,” said Roy hopefully.
In a short time another flock, larger than the first, was seen coming upthe pond, and, to the great satisfaction of the boys, they were flyingover the exact middle of the water, and would therefore pass beyondgun-shot of the unknown hunters, unless they should change their course.
“It’s our turn now,” exulted Roy. “I think that bunch will come in here.Something doing in a minute or two, old chap.”
There was—something tremendously provoking; for, as the flock cameopposite the low point, both of the unseen sportsmen fired, although,with any reasonable amount of judgment, they must have realized thatthere was not one chance in a thousand that they could make a kill.Those shots, however, were sufficient to cause the flock to swerve,swing about in a half circle, and go speeding off into the distance.
Hooker said something violent, while Sage ground his strong teethtogether.
“The chumps! The miserable, sneaking idiots!” raged Roy. “If they have abit of sense in their bone-heads, they must have known they couldn’tstart a feather at that distance. Why do you suppose they were foolishenough to try it?”
“I can’t imagine any reason, unless they were determined to spoil ourchance,” answered Fred, who was now furious enough to fight. “If theykeep that addle-pated business up, we won’t get a shot this morning.”
“Slim chance of it now, anyhow. It’s broad daylight, and we’ve lost ouropportunity at two flocks. There may be other birds coming in, but thosethat have heard the firing will be likely to keep away from this end ofthe pond. It’s rotten, that’s what it is.”
“With good luck, we might have knocked down half a dozen out of thatlast big bunch. Whoever those chaps are, they’re poor sportsmen.”
“They’re nasty sneaks; that’s my opinion.”
In the course of ten minutes three ducks, evidently a remnant of aflock, came winging close to the point, and with four shots the hiddenhunters tumbled the trio of birds into the water. One was wounded, forit flopped about after splashing into the pond, but soon another shotfrom the bushes finished it. Then the dog swam out and did the work ofretrieving.
“It’s all off,” sighed Sage. “Our morning’s sport is ruined.”
“Hardly a doubt of it,” agreed his companion. “That is, as far asshooting ducks is concerned. I propose to have a look at the gentlemenwho have tricked us in this brilliant and commendable manner. Theyaren’t going to get away before I see them and tell them a few things.Come on; we can gather up the decoys later.”
“You don’t think it’s any use to wait a little longer, Roy?” asked Fred,loath to release the skirts of hope.
“Not a bit. Besides, I’d rather face those chaps now than to kill one ortwo stray ducks.”
Leaving the blind, they hurried to the shore and turned their footstepstoward the point upon which the rival duck hunters were ensconced.Realizing it was wholly probable that their movements had been observed,they lost no time in plunging forward through the woods and thickets,fearing that the ones they sought might take alarm and depart.
Bursting forth from the bushes side by side, they halted as they reachedthe point, beholding two boys leaving the shelter in which they had beenhidden, burdened by guns and the slain ducks and followed by awater-spaniel. These boys stopped as Sage and Hooker appeared beforethem.
One was Jack Nelson; the other Sleuth Piper.