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Castlemon, Harry, [pseud.], 1842-1915

"Frank, the Young Naturalist"


"Who's that, I wonder," said Archie, to himself. "It can't be Frank,
for he wouldn't be on that side of the creek; besides, I had a good
long start of him."
His soliloquy was cut short by the movements of the flock, which,
instead of continuing on their course up the creek, rose higher in the
air, and flew about in confusion.
This opportunity was not lost by the concealed sportsman, and a second
bird came down with a broken wing. The ducks then wheeled and flew
back toward the place where Archie was stationed. As soon as they came
within range, he fired and brought down another bird, which landed
among the bushes on the opposite side of the creek.
He now turned his attention to the wounded duck, which was swimming in
a circle around his dead companion, as if perfectly bewildered.
"I wish I had my powder-flask and shot-bag," said Archie. "How foolish
I was not to bring them! I bet that I'll never start out again with
only one load in my gun."
But there was no time for regrets. The duck seemed to be recovering
his strength, and began co flap his wings, as if preparing to fly.


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