recision,
and held rigidly on the mark. His teeth set, Bobby pulled the trigger.

Instantly the duck fell on its side, and, beating the water frantically
with its wings, began to kick around in a circle.

"I got him! I got him! Oh, he'll get away!" screeched Bobby in a breath.

At the crack of the rifle Mr. Kincaid had leaped to his feet with
surprising agility.

"Well, good boy!" he exclaimed, "I should say you did get him! He won't
get away; he's hit in the head."

"Is that the way they act when they're hit in the head?" asked Bobby,
still doubtful.

"Yes. Fetch him, Curly."

Bobby took the duck from Curly's mouth and held him up by the bill to
drain the water, just as he had seen Mr. Kincaid do. Then he laid his
prize across the bow and gloated.

It was a very beautiful duck, with an erect topknot of white edged with
black running over the top of its head like the plume of a Grecian
helmet. The sides of its white breast were covered with feathers of a
bright cinnamon tipped with gray; its back was black and gray with fine
black edgings; and its wings were dark with a white and iridescent band
on each. But what interested Bobby especially was its bill. This
differed entirely from the bills of all the other ducks. It was very
long and very slender and had teeth!

"What kind is it?" asked Bobby looking up to encounter Mr. Kincaid's
amused gaze.

"Well--it's called a merganser in the books," said Mr. Kincaid.

"I'm going to have mama cook it," announced Bobby, and returned to his
blissful contemplation.

Mr. Kincaid grinned quietly to himself. He would not spoil the little
boy's pleasure by telling him that his first trophy was a fish-duck,
and, beautiful as it was, utterly useless.

No more ducks came for a long time after that. The wind continued to
increase, blowing from a clear sky, without scuds. By and by Mr. Kincaid
produced a package of lunch, and they ate, drinking in turn from the
demijohn that Bobby had filled the night before. The sun swung up
overhead, and down the westward slope. With the advance of afternoon
came more, but scattered, ducks rushing down the wind at railroad speed,
to wheel sometimes into the teeth of it like yachts rounding to as they
caught sight of the decoys. When the sun was low and red, thousands of
blackbirds began to fly by in an unbroken succession, low to the reeds,
uttering their chattering and liquid calls. So numerous were they that
the entire outlook seemed fil