CHAPTER VII
DINNER
We washed up and came down stairs. All at once it proved to be drowsytime. The dark had fallen and the lamps were lit. A new fire crackled inthe fireplace, anticipating the chill that was already descending.Carrie played the piano in the other room. The General snorted oversomething in his city paper. Mrs. Kitty had disappeared on householdbusiness. Pete and Pup, having been mistaken one for the other by someinnocent bystander, gloomed and glowered under chairs.
Both the Captain and myself made some sort of a pretence of reading thepapers. It was only a pretence. The grateful warmth, the soothingcrackling of the fire, the distant music--and, possibly, our state ofstarvation--lulled us to a half doze. From this we were aroused by anannouncement of dinner.
We had soup and various affairs of that sort; and there was brought on ahuge and baronial roast, from which the Captain promptly proceeded toslice generous allowances. With it came vegetables. They were all cookedin cream; not milk, but rich top cream thick enough to cut with a knife.I began to see why all the house servants were plump. Also there werejellies, and little fat hot rolls, and strange pickled products of thesoil. I was good and hungry; and I ate thereof.
The plates were removed. I settled back with a sigh of repletion----
The door opened to admit the waitress bearing a huge platter on whichreposed, side by side, five ducks. That meant a whole one apiece! To myfeeble protest the family turned indignantly.
"Of course you must eat your duck!" Mrs. Kitty settled the wholequestion at last.
So I ate my duck. It was a very good duck; as indeed it should havebeen, for it was fattened on Egyptian corn, hung the exact number ofdays, and cooked by Charley. It had a little spout of celery down whichI could pour the abundant juice from its inside; and it was flankedright and left respectively by a piece of lemon liberally sprinkled withred pepper and sundry crisp slabs of fried hominy. Every night of theshooting season each member of the household had "his duck." Later I wasshown the screened room wherein hung the game, each dated by a littletag.
After I had made way with most of my duck, and other things, and had hadmy coffee, and had lighted a cigar, I was entirely willing to sink backto disgraceful ease. But the Captain suddenly developed an inexcusableand fiendish energy.
"No, you don't," said he. "You come with me and Redmond and get out thedecoys."
"What for?" I temporized, feebly.
"To keep the moths out of them, of course," replied the Captain withfine sarcasm. "Do you mean to tell me that you can sit still and donothing after seeing all those ducks this afternoon? You're a finesportsman! Brace up!"
"Let me finish this excellent cigar," I pleaded. "You gave it to me."
To this he assented. Carrie went back to the piano. The lights were dim.Mrs. Kitty went on finishing her crochet work or whatever it was. Nobodysaid anything for a long time. The Captain was busy in the gun room withone of the ranch foremen.
But this could not last, and at length I was haled forth to work.
The crisp, sharp air beneath the frosty stars, after the tepid airwithin, awakened me like the shock of cold water. Redmond was awaitingus with a lantern. By the horse block lay the mass of somethingindeterminate which I presently saw to be sacks full of somethingknobby.
"I have six sacks of wooden decoys," said Redmond, "with weights all onthem."
The Captain nodded and passed on. We made our way down past the grapearbour, opened the high door leading into chickenville, and stopped atthe border of the little pond. On its surface floated a hundred or sotame ducks of all descriptions. By means of clods of earth we woke themup. They came ashore and waddled without objection to a littleinclosure. We followed them and shut the gate.
One after another the Captain indicated those he wished to take with himon the morrow. Redmond caught them, inserted them in gunny sacks, two tothe sack. They made no great objection to being caught. One or twoyoungsters flopped and flapped about, and had to be chased into acorner. In general, however, they accepted the situationphilosophically, and snuggled down contentedly in their sacks.
"They are used to it," the Captain explained. "Most of these Rouen ducksare old hands at the business; they know what to expect."
He was very particular as to the colouring of the individuals heselected. A single white feather was sufficient to cause the rejectionof a female; and even when the colour scheme was otherwise perfect, toolight a shade proved undesired.
"I don't know just why it is," said he, "but the wild ducks are a lotmore particular about the live decoys than about the wooden. A woodendecoy can be all knocked to pieces, faded and generally disreputable,but it does well enough; but a live decoy must look the part absolutely.That gives us six apiece; I think it will be enough."
Redmond took charge of our capture. We left him with the lantern,stowing away the decoys, live and inanimate, in the Invigorator. Withinfifteen minutes thereafter I was sleeping the sleep of the moderatelytired and the fully fed.