They were just on the edge of the swamp, and it was, as Jim said, "a great place for rabbits."
"Where? Where? I see him! Oh, what a big one!"
Charley had been gazing, open-mouthed, at the rapid leaps of that frightened white rabbit, and wondering if he would ever sit down long enough to be shot at, with that dog less than half a dozen rods behind him.
He was in a tremendous hurry, that rabbit, and he would hardly have "taken a seat" if one had been offered him; but he was down now, for Jim had not only fired at him--he had hit him.
"One for me. I meant to let you have the first shot. Never mind; you take the next one. Keep your eyes out. He may be along before I'm loaded."
Old Nap's interest in a rabbit seemed to cease the moment it was killed, for he was now ranging the bushes at quite a distance.
"Here comes one. Quick, Charley! He's stopped to listen for the dog."
So he had, like a very unwise rabbit, and was perking up his long ears within quite easy range of Charley's gun as he levelled it.
"Cock it! cock it!" shouted Jim. "Cock your gun!"
But he knew how; and when he once more lifted his gun, and pulled the triggers, one after the other, they came down handsomely.
"Only snapped your caps?" said Jim. "I never knew that gun to miss fire before. He's gone."
The rabbit had taken a hint from the bursting of the caps, and was now running a race with Napoleon Bonaparte across the swamp.
Charley looked at his weapon very gravely, and put on another pair of caps, remarking, "I never had a gun miss fire like that with me before."
Jim's own gun was ready again in short order, but there was a queer questioning look stealing into his face, and he said,
"Take mine, Charley; I'll look into that business."
Charley traded guns, and stood anxiously watching for another rabbit, while Jim "looked into" both barrels of the offending piece, and tried them with the ramrod.
"Got enough in 'em; no mistake about that. Guess I'd better draw the charges."
There was a corkscrew on the end of the ramrod for that sort of thing, and in a moment more Jim had a wad out of each barrel.
"Hullo! Powder? I declare! Why, Charley, you've put your ammunition in wrong end first. You might have cracked caps on that thing all day. Your shot's all at the bottom."