"This lot are coming low," Luka whispered. "They are probably going to settle to feed. Get ready now." Godfrey lay with his gun pointed upwards; a minute later he heard the rustling of wings, which rose to a sound like a mighty wind, and then some forty yards overhead a dark cloud of birds swept along across the sky. Godfrey fired one barrel, waited a moment and then fired again. With a loud cry of surprise and alarm the flock divided in two, and almost instantly there were several heavy thuds on the ground close by. "Hurrah! we have got some of them," Godfrey said, and leaping up they ran to collect the fallen birds. There were five of them. "That is grand," he exclaimed in delight. "Will you shoot some more?" Luka asked. "No, we have as many as we can eat, Luka, for the next three days at least. It would be a waste of powder and shot to kill more, and worse still, it would be a waste of life. It is right to kill what we require as food, but to my mind there is nothing more wicked than taking life merely for amusement. I consider that we should well deserve any misfortune that might happen to us if we were to kill any one of God's creatures wantonly. One of our best poets has written: "'He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all.' "It makes me furious sometimes, Luka, when I read books of what is called sport, and find men boasting of killing numerous creatures merely for the pleasure of killing them. I feel that nothing would give me greater pleasure than to flog such brutes." Luka did not much understand this outburst of indignation, but as usual he grunted an assent, and carrying the birds they returned to the boat. "It is freezing to-night," the Tartar said as they stepped in. "I will lay the geese in the bow beyond the cover. They will be frozen by the morning." Godfrey was glad of the wrapping of warm furs that night, and even when he shook them off and looked out at sunrise, it was still so chilly that, after he had leaned over the side of the boat as usual, and sluiced his head with water, he was glad to take a paddle and work hard for a bit to keep himself warm. "Get the fire alight, Luka, and the kettle on," he said, "and cut up one of those geese. How are you going to get the feathers off? I suppose you will have to pluck them and singe them." "It would take much too long that. We can spare the feathers this time." So saying, with his knife he made a slight incision down the breast-bone, and then proceeded to tear off the skin, bit by bit, feathers and all. "That is a quick way," Godfrey said, "though it doesn't improve the bird's appearance; but that is a trifle. Never mind the bread, we shall have to do without that before long, and I feel as hungry as a hunter."