For some time, the hunters continued to pick their way slowly and silently, now through the tall dripping sawgrass, then in the dark shadow of dense river-bottom maples.
Again the trapper crept out into the open, while Bill held his breath waiting for the return of his friend.
“I can’t see them yet,” the old man reported, “but I can hear them cackle. We had better wait here till it is light enough to shoot.”
Daylight seemed a very long time coming, but at last the stars began to fade behind the Wisconsin bluffs, while the woods on the Minnesota hills began to stand out like long black streaks.
“Now,” whispered Barker, “look at your gun. It is time to begin our stalk. Don’t shoot blindly into the flock, but aim at your bird and take it from below or behind. We must not drop any bird crippled, and let it get away. That is poor sportsmanship.”
Without another word, the two hunters crept along for a hundred yards. Barker stepped slowly behind a willow-bush and motioned the boy to follow him.
A large flock of big dark birds were sitting and standing within easy range. Many were still asleep with their heads under-their wings, some were preening their feathers and half a dozen stood watchful with their long necks erect.
One big old gander became restless. He seemed to be looking and listening in the direction of the hunters. He stood still a few seconds. Then he uttered a loud honk and with a great thunderous flapping of their big wings, the while flock rose in the gray morning air.
Both hunters fired twice, and four of the big birds dropped before they could get under way. Three fell on the sand dead, but the fourth turned and fell into the brush some hundred yards below them.
“Mark the spot,” ordered Barker, “and load your gun. Be quick, or we’ll lose it.”
They hurried to the spot where the goose had dropped into the bushes. A few scattered feathers were there, but no bird.
“Now we must circle around to find that goose,” Barker told his companion. “It can’t have gone far.”
For half an hour they searched the whole neighborhood with the greatest care, but not a trace did they discover of the wounded bird.
“I reckon we have to give it up,” the trapper said at last. “It beats me how a wild creature can hide itself. Perhaps the goose got back into the water and is now swimming down the river.