me, in a low voice; "her pistol isn't
cocked."

I had noticed this, and I hoped also that it wasn't loaded.

"Which eye do you shut?" said Corny, turning suddenly upon us.

"Both!" said Rectus.

She did not answer, but looked at me, and I told her to shut her left
eye, but to be very particular not to turn around again without lowering
her pistol.

She resumed her former position, and we breathed a little easier,
although I thought that it might be well for us to go to some other part
of the boat until she had finished her sport.

I was about to suggest this to Rectus, when suddenly Corny sprang to her
feet, and began blazing away at something ahead. Bang! bang! bang! she
went, seven times.

"Why, she didn't stop once to cock it!" cried Rectus, and I was amazed
to see how she had fired so rapidly. But as soon as I had counted seven,
I stepped up to her and took her pistol. She explained to me how it
worked. It was one of those pistols in which the same pull of the
trigger jerks up the hammer and lets it down,--the most unsafe things
that any one can carry.

"Too bad!" she exclaimed. "I believe it was only a log! But wont you
please load it up again for me? Here are some cartridges."

"Corny," said I, "how would you like to have our rifle? It will be
better than a pistol for you."

She agreed, instantly, to this exchange, and I showed her how to hold
and manage the gun. I didn't think it was a very good thing for a girl
to have, but it was a great deal safer than the pistol for the people on
board. The latter I put in my pocket.

Corny made one shot, but did no execution. The other gunners on board
had been firing away, for some time, at two little birds that kept ahead
of us, skimming along over the water, just out of reach of the shot that
was sent scattering after them.

"I think it's a shame," said Corny, "to shoot such little birds as that.
They can't eat 'em."

"No," said I; "and they can't hit 'em, either, which is a great deal
better."

But very soon after this, the shorter yellow-legged man did hit a bird.
It was a water-turkey, that had been sitting on a tree, just as we
turned a corner. The big bird spread out its wings, made a doleful
flutter, and fell into the underbrush by the shore.

"Wont they stop to get him?" asked Corny, with her eyes open as wide as
they would go.

One of the hands was standing by, and he laughed.

"Stop the boat when a man shoots a bird? I reckon not. And ther