Yes,
even Daniel Boone did sometimes go astray. And whether it is to
end as a joke or a horrible tragedy depends entirely on the way
in which the person takes it. This is, indeed, the grand test of
a hunter and scout, the trial of his knowledge, his muscle, and,
above everything, his courage; and, like all supreme trials, it
comes without warning.
The wonderful flocks of wild pigeons had arrived. For a few days
in May they were there in millions, swarming over the ground in
long-reaching hordes, walking along, pecking and feeding, the
rearmost flying on ahead, ever to the front. The food they sought
so eagerly now was chiefly the seeds of the slippery elm, tiny
nuts showered down on wings like broad-brimmed hats. And when the
flock arose at some alarm, the sound was like that of the sea
beach in a storm.
There seemed to be most pigeons in the low country southeast of
the lake, of course, because, being low, it had most elms. So
Rolf took his bow and arrows, crossed in the canoe, and
confidently set about gathering in a dozen or two for broilers.
It is amazing how well the game seems to gauge the range of
your weapon and keep the exact safe distance.
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