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

"Frank, the Young Naturalist"


Archie began to fear that he should lose him; and, throw down his
gun, he gathered up an armful of sticks and branches, and straightway
opened fire on the bird. The duck dodged the missiles like a flash,
and every now and then renewed his attempts to fly; but, at length, a
heavy piece of root struck him, and stretched him out lifeless on the
water.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed a strong, cheery voice. "That's what I call
shooting ducks under difficulties."
Archie looked up and saw his cousin standing on the opposite side of
the creek, with his gun on one shoulder and two of the flock slung
over the other.
"I came very near getting the start of you, after all--didn't I?"
continued Frank.
"Was that you shooting up there?" inquired Archie.
"Yes; I had almost reached the swamp, when I happened to think that
perhaps the ducks might be in the creek, so I turned back."
"A lucky circumstance for you. But I beat you, after all. I've got
three ducks."
"Where are they? I don't see but two."
"The other is over there in the bushes, somewhere.


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