A POT-HUNTER'S DEFIANCE 49 



There was nothing to say to this and Shan con- 

 tinued his task of plucking feathers. After brood- 

 ing a while longer, Bull continued, 



"What were ducks put here for, I'd like to 

 know? To look at? Or to listen to 'em squawk? 

 Or to write songs about 'em? These here law- 

 makin' folks can say what they like, but I tell yo', 

 boy, ducks were put here to be eaten. 



"I'm no religious man, myself," Bull went on, 

 "but I've heard my father tell that the Old Book 

 says all the animals were put here for man's use 

 an' for his food. Anything what's fit to eat was 

 meant to be eaten. Any animal what's got fur fit 

 to wear was meant to be skinned an' the fur worn." 



He snorted anew. 



"They'll be havin' a close season on black- 

 berries, next, askin' a gun license for pickin' wild 

 grapes an' makin' it a prison offense to eat a 

 huckleberry off'n a bush." 



Again the old man paused. This time the pause 

 was longer, and Shan, looking up, saw Bull Adam's 

 black eyebrows drawing down into a gloomy frown. 

 When he spoke again, it was in a sullen, resent- 

 ful tone, the heavy speech of a silent man unduly 

 stirred. 



"It makes me tired," he said, "when I hear 



