GREEN FROGS AND A BOTTLE OF BEER 35 
him up a bit to sit there all day. I got out in the mud, 
took an empty shotgun shell box—the kind that holds 
500 shells—and bailed out the sink box. Then I got out 
my shovel and threw up about fifty shovelfuls of mud and 
patted them into the shape of ducks to look like decoys. 
‘“Meantime Blue Eyes got out a bottle of beer and 
drank it all by his lonesome, without offering me so 
much as a mouthful. Then he jumped down into the 
sink box and I handed him his gun, shell box, lunch, two 
more bottles of beer, and a bottle of water. Then I 
got into the boat, ready to row close in near shore, where 
the boat would be out of sight and not scare the ducks 
coming to the sink box. 
‘“““Good luck,’ I said, waving my hand. 
“““Thanks,’ says Blue Eyes; ‘remember and come for 
me when I wave my hat, and say, I’ll keep a bottle of 
beer for you.’ 
“‘I rowed halfway to shore before remembering that 
my bottle of beer was not in my possession. I should 
have rowed back and got it, but I hated to do that. It 
would look as though I didn’t trust Blue Eyes. That’s 
where I made my mistake. Beer in captivity should 
either be close to or under one’s belt to be safe. But it 
was too late to do anything about it. 
“It’s customary with us guides to watch our ‘sports’ 
shoot awhile and if they are good shots it’s real interest- 
ing. But after a few shots with only moderate results, 
we generally take a nap to pass the time. I watched 
Blue Eyes a spell and then became right sleepy. It was 
late when I woke up. I had lunch and then took a taste 
at the water bottle just to see if it was wet. I did not 
care to drink much water as I had a bottle of beer com- 
ing. ‘“‘Here comes a spoonbill,” whispered Jimmy, 
“off to the south.”’ It was the wildest spoonbill I ever: 
