BRANT SHOOTING. 293 



fender. I decided to let that single fellow get down 

 a little further and to take the eight-gauge and swing 

 around on the other chaps, and take the single one in 

 as he started up. When he was far enough down, I 

 swung around with the eight-gauge and took a care- 

 ful aim at the waterline of the nearest bird of three 

 sitting together, but they jumped as I pulled and I 

 scored a blank, the second barrel stopping one bird. 

 Now for the single one ! He didn't lead up according 

 to programme, but climbed down wind and was now 

 a long shot off. I sent both barrels on the ten-gauge 

 after him. The first hit him hard, but it looked as if 

 he would carry it off ; but no, he set his wings and scaled 

 in toward the sharpie, and then let himself down gently 

 — a cripple. A puff of smoke rose from the sharpie and 

 a moment later his brantship was tossed rudely on to 

 the stern seat. 



The captain shoved slowly toward the battery, pick- 

 ing up the dead, and was soon within talking distance. 



"We will have rain soon ; it is getting thick off there 

 to the east," was his first remark. ''You didn't do 

 much with that last bunch," was his second. But 

 just then a boat going in to the beach to the west of us 

 put up a big cloud of brant and the captain started 

 back for the shore. I stood on the deck to look around 

 while he was rowing away, and off shore of me to the 

 east and west I could see the white tails of brant, 

 bobbing up and down on the waves. Our easter was 

 doing big work and the brant were stopping in the 

 bay, tired out by facing its force. 



