JOHN’S ISLAND 99 
‘High birds are always deceptive; how high did you 
think those were?”’ 
“At least a hundred yards,’’ I answered, ‘‘and I was 
so surprised to see two drop that I never thought of my 
second barrel.”’ 
“That bunch was only fifty yards high, but—watch 
out,’’ whispered Jimmy, ‘‘here come five more.” I 
watched out and that was all I did do. The teal came 
on in fine shape but seemed again far out of range. 
Thinking to have the laugh on Jimmy I whispered, ‘‘ You 
shoot.”” Jimmy threw his pump gun to his shoulder 
and fired instantly. One bird with wings widely out- 
stretched struck a slow corkscrew spiral coming down, 
finally hitting the sandbar behind us, and lay still. 
“Thought I couldn’t hit ’em, eh? Didn’t care to 
waste a shell yourself, but thought I would miss and 
you could give me the horse laugh. Well, someone got. 
fooled that time.”’ 
‘“‘T don’t blame you for swelling up a little over that. 
shot,” I said, “‘it was a mighty fine one. What made 
you feel so sure the teal were within range?”’ 
“I never used to shoot at those high birds until 
lately,’’ answered Jimmy; ‘‘always thought, just as you 
do now, that they were out of range. But this summer 
I was down in Salt Lake City looking at a skyscraper 
building they were putting up there when a couple of 
pigeons flew over the building and I got to wondering: 
just how high the pigeons were. I knew they were- 
pigeons, but they looked so small they seemed more like 
sparrows than pigeons. ”’ 
‘How did you figure it out?”’ I asked. 
“‘Oh! I waltzed up and asked one of the carpenters 
working there how high the building was. He said a. 
hundred and thirty feet. The pigeons were about. 
