They watched the buzzards lazily wheeling around high up in the heavens, apparently bent on finding out where they could get their next meal. "What a fine view they must have of the plain up there," Harry happened to remark; "makes me think of when we went up with those aviators, who had the dirigible balloon near the border of Death Valley and were experimenting in dropping bombs down, just like will be done in the next big war between the Nations, when battleships must give way to aeroplanes and submarines." "Watch that hawk, will you!" cried Jack, "see how he is chasing after that bird! I declare, it looks like he'd sure get his dinner." "How I hate hawks!" exclaimed Jimmy, hotly, as he reached for his gun, "they're the pirates of the air, and just duck down on poor little birds whenever they feel like having a bite. Hey! he got the innocent that rush, didn't he? Oh! wouldn't I just like to get a shot at the murderer, though!" Jimmy, of course, forgot this was the daily business of the hawk and that he only slew when he was hungry and not for pleasure. He also forgot that many men who call themselves _sportsmen_ persist in killing game or game fish long after they have reached the limit of disposing of the same for food and even throw the victims of their cruelty aside in heaps--the more shame to their claim to manhood. "Well, perhaps you may have a chance to play the noble role of avenger," chuckled Jack, "that is, if you can shoot straight; because you notice the hawk has now flown with his prey to that dead treetop and alighted there. Jimmy, get your gun and show us what you can do." "Just what I will," replied the other promptly. It was a pretty long shot for Jimmy. He seemed to doubt his ability to do the needful, without having some sort of rest for his gun. "Jack, will you do me a favor?" he asked. "Sure I will, Jimmy; just name it," was the reply. "Be my gun rest, won't you now; because I'd like to do for that pirate the worst kind, but 'tis thinkin' I am that it's a bit too far for me. What I've gone through lately has made me hand a little unsteady, like." Jack was accommodating enough to back up in front of the intended sharpshooter and arrange himself in such fashion that Jimmy could rest his rifle on one of his shoulders. "There you are," he remarked, placing fingers in both ears, so that the report might not deafen him. "I'll hold as steady as Gibraltar Rock, Jimmy, so if you miss you mustn't go and lay the blame on me, hear?" "Easy now, and I'm off!" muttered the other, as he took aim. The sharp report sounded a couple of seconds later. "Bully for you, Jimmy!" shouted Jack, immediately. "Did I get him?" cried the delighted marksman. "Did you!" echoed Harry, "look at him circling down to the ground right now! You knocked him galley-west, I should say, if I was on a boat now. Go and get your game, Jimmy, and let's see the old buccaneer."