CHAPTER XXVII.
On the "War-path."--Rabbit-shooting.--Flapper-shooting.-- Duck-shooting.--Wood-pigeons.--Life in an Oak-tree.-- Burying-beetles.--Lace-wing Fly.--Stag-beetle.--Hair-worm.
It was a curious sight to see the boys on the "war-path." Frankgenerally led the way, with his eyes fixed on the hedge or tree-tops.Jimmy followed closely at his heels, and Dick brought up the rear. Astheir eyes were generally too much occupied in looking out for objectsof interest, to take care of their feet, they lifted the latter up fromthe ground with an action like that of a thorough-bred colt, so as toavoid any obstacles in their path. While going along one day in thisstyle, Frank said,
"I tell you what we have nearly forgotten, and that is to goflapper-shooting."
Flappers are young ducks only just able to fly, and in July it is greatfun following them along the side of a dyke, the short flights of theyoung ones making them easy shots for a beginner.
"Let us go to-morrow," said Jimmy.
"You two shoot, and I will look on," said Dick, who cared very littlefor shooting.
Dick was not by any means an enthusiastic gunner, as the followinganecdote will show.
He had taken the gun, saying that he was going to shoot rabbits by theHome Copse, a wood which belonged to Mr. Merivale. In a convenient spotthe boys had fixed a hurdle close by a hedge-bank, and twined somebrushwood through the bars. Between this and the hedge they used to taketheir seat, and watch for the rabbits coming out of their burrows in theevening. On a warm July evening Dick went to this spot alone, with aparting injunction from Frank not to shoot at the young ones, but topick out the old bucks. Frank was busy with something or other, andJimmy was away at Norwich. When Frank had finished what he was about hewent in search of Dick. When he came to the edge of the field at thefoot of which lay the wood, he saw numbers of rabbits skipping aboutclose by Dick's shelter, and after waiting for some time he grewimpatient, and wondered why Dick did not fire.
WILD RABBITS.]
"He must have fallen asleep," he thought; and so with infinite care andcunning he crawled down the hedge-side, and came upon Dick from behind.
"Dick, why don't you shoot?" he said in a whisper.
"Hush!" said Dick, "they look so pretty, I don't like to disturb them.Look at the young ones frisking about."
"Give me the gun," said Frank.
Dick passed it to him through the hedge, and Frank, taking aim at twofine rabbits which happened to be in a line, shot them dead.
"I have had more pleasure in watching them than you have had in shootingthem, Frank," said Dick.
It must not be thought that Dick was mawkishly sentimental, but he hadnot the organ of destructiveness that Frank had, and it was, as he said,quite as much sport to him to see and watch birds and animals as toshoot them. Therefore, when the others went flapper-shooting their orderof going ranged in this wise:--
Frank, armed with his double-barrelled muzzle-loader (for breech-loadershad not yet come into general use), took one side of the dyke, andJimmy, with a single-barrel he had bought second-hand, took the otherside, while Dick took the punt along the dyke ready to act the part of aretriever.
It was one of those still, hot days when the distant woods lie broodingin a blue haze. The labours of the breeding-season over, the birds wereresting silently, and there was no sound but the monotonous hum ofinsect-life. On the wide marshes all objects were distorted by thequivering of the evaporating moisture, and the long straight dykes anddrains gleamed back defiantly at the sun. Frank and Jimmy trudgedvaliantly through the rustling flags and reeds by the water-side, andDick pulled the punt along a little behind them.
"Shooting is no fun this weather," said Frank, stopping to wipe theperspiration from his brow.
Just then a wild-duck rose from the reeds, followed by half-a-dozenyoung ones. They rose on Frank's side of the dyke, so it was his turn toshoot. He dropped his hat and handkerchief and fired, but in his hurryhe missed with the first barrel, and Jimmy, fearing they might escape,let off his big single, and one of the young ducks fell to the groundwith a flop which told how fat he was. Frank winged another with hissecond barrel, and it fell into the water, where it was despatched by athird shot from Jimmy, who had hastily loaded. The old duck flew faraway, but the young ones only flew short distances, and then settled onthe dyke and hid in the reeds, one here and another there; and then foran hour or so they had good sport beating about the dykes, and flushingthem one by one until they had disposed of the whole brood.
"There," said Frank, as he handed the last of them to Dick in the punt,"it is too hot to shoot any more to-day. We have done enough to be ableto say that we have been flapper-shooting, and that is all I care forthis hot weather."
"I am glad you are leaving off;" said Dick, "that villanous saltpetresmoke hangs in the air so that one can see nothing."
"Then let us have a bathe, and leave the ducks until the winter-time,"said Jimmy.
"Yes, but we won't leave them quite yet. We must shoot them when theycome to the corn-fields in August."
WOOD-PIGEON.]
And as we are now writing about wild-duck shooting we will just advancea short time in our story, and take a glance at the boys shooting wildducks when the fields are yellow with harvest.
Frank and Jimmy are perched in an oak-tree, which after many years ofwrestling with the winds and storms, has assumed a very quaint andpicturesque shape. Its mighty stem is riven and has great hollows in it,and its low, wide spreading branches shade more of the field than theNorfolk farmer likes. It stands in a hedge which separates thecorn-field, where the stems are bowing with the weight of the ears andare ready for the scythe, from a meadow which slopes down to the marshand the broad.
Frank and Jimmy both have their guns, and Dick has been sent to theother side of the field with an old pistol, which he has been charged tolet off.
"Cock your gun, Dick is raising his pistol," said Frank.
A puff of smoke from out the shadow of the hedge, and a few secondsafter, a report, show that Dick has fulfilled his mission; and as thereport reaches them, first come a number of wild-pigeons, which fly pastwith whistling wings. Jimmy fires and brings one to the ground. Frankhas reserved his fire, and wisely, for with slow and heavy flight comefour wild ducks right towards the tree. Frank gets two of them in a lineand fires his first barrel. Two of them fall, and with his second barrelhe wings another, which Jimmy despatches.
SUSPENDED LEAF-TENTS.]
"Come back to the tree, Dick," shouted Frank, and Dick came back. "Nowif we wait here a little while, the wild-pigeons will come back, andsome more ducks may come from the marsh." And so, having loaded theirguns, they laid them in a hollow and made themselves comfortable, andbegan to chat.
"Did you ever notice how much insect-life there is in an oak-tree?"said Dick. "Just watch this branch while I tap it."
He struck the branch as he spoke, and immediately there fell from itscores of caterpillars, which let themselves fall by a silken thread,and descended, some nearly to the ground, others only a little distance.
"I was reading the other day," said Dick, "of the immense quantity ofmoths which lay their eggs on the oak. There are caterpillars whichbuild little houses of bark to live in. Others roll up the leaves and somake tents for themselves. Others eat the surface of the leaves, and soleave white tracks on their march. Others, when they are frightened,will put themselves into such queer postures: they will stretchthemselves out as stiff as a twig, holding on by one end only, and youwould think they were twigs; and these, when they walk, loop themselvesup. They don't crawl like other caterpillars, but have feet only at eachend, and so they loop up their bodies in the middle till they form theletter omega, and then stretch out their heads again and bring up theirtails with another loop. And then there are cannibal caterpillars, whicheat other caterpillars. Look at these little spots of bright green. See,if I make them fly, they are seen to be pretty little moths with greenwings. They are called the green oak-moth."
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"An oak-tree seems to be a regular city," said Frank.
"Look at this marvellously beautiful fly, with lace-like wings," saidJimmy. "What is that?"
"That is a lace-wing fly," answered Dick. "Just put your nose as closeas you can to it and smell it."
Jimmy did so, and said,--
"Why it is nearly as bad as a stink-horn fungus."
No more ducks came back that day, but three more wood-pigeons fellvictims to their love of corn, and the boys descended, by and by, andwalked home.
As they were sitting on a stile, Dick pointed to the carcase of a molewhich lay on the path, and to two little black beetles with yellow bandson their wing-cases, which were crawling over it.
"I think those are burying beetles. Let us watch them. They lay theireggs in dead bodies of beasts or birds and then bury them, and the grubof the beetle lives on the carcase in its babyhood."
They lay down on the ground by the beetles, watching them. The processof egg-laying by the female was just about being completed, and the twosoon buried themselves in the earth beneath the carcase, and presentlyappeared at one side with a little mound of earth which they hadexcavated from under it. This process was repeated again and again, andvery slowly the mole began to sink into the ground. The boys watched itfor nearly an hour, and in that time the mole was about half-buried. Oneobserver once kept four of these beetles in a place where he couldobserve them, and supplied them with carcases of small animals andbirds, and in twelve days they had buried no less than fifty!
LACE-WINGED FLY. (Manner of depositing Eggs.)]
"Have you ever seen those huge stag-beetles with long horny mandibleslike stag's horns?" said Frank.
"Yes," replied Dick, "I caught one yesterday, and looked up all aboutit in my books. Its caterpillar takes four years to arrive at maturity,and it burrows in the wood of oak and willow trees. I showed the beetleI caught to our housekeeper, and she nearly went into hysterics over it.I tried to make her take it into her hand, and she said she would nothave done so for 'worlds untold.'"
STAG-HORNED PRIONUS AND DIAMOND BEETLE.]
Frank stooped down to wash his hands in a small pool of water by theroad-side, and he cried--
"I say, do look here. Here is a living horsehair. Look at it swimmingabout. It ties itself into ever so many knots in a minute, and untiesthem again. Is it a hair-worm?"
"Yes, I have no doubt it is," said Jimmy. "Do you know that I expectthat the common notion of eels being bred from horsehairs has arisenfrom country people seeing these long worms, and thinking they werehorsehairs just come to life."
The hair-worm in the first stage of its existence passes its life in thebody of some tiny animal or insect. Although it lives afterwards in thewater, yet it will, if put into a dry and hot place, dry up to nothingas it were; and then after a long exposure to the heat, if it is putinto water again, it will swell out and resume its old proportions, and,live seeming none the worse for being baked.