The greatest rivalry took place among the boys, each anxious to carry off the palm. Cut off from their ordinary sources of amusement, they gave their whole soul to this work, till fowl increased to such a degree that Holdness said, "You can't step without treading on eggs or chickens, nor go into the hovels to look for any tool, but a sitting hen will fly up in your face." Those were glorious days for Scip: he could steal all the eggs he wished to; there were so many, no one suspected him. Archie Crawford had reared a noble flock of ducks, of which he was excessively proud. He took great delight in watching them, as, after being let out in the morning, they waddled off to the swamp in Indian file, the bright colors on the necks of the drakes glistening in the rays of the morning sun, returning at night in the same manner. Three of those dreary days had passed; and, on the morning of the fourth, Archie had fed and was watching his ducks as they ate up the corn. With him were Bobby Holt and Ike Proctor. The faces of the boys were clouded, and they added to their discontent by talking about the hard experience they were just then undergoing. Their conference was interrupted by the loud "quack, quack," of the old drake as he started for the swamp, the ducks and young drakes falling into line behind him, with responsive but more subdued quacks. "Wish I was a duck!" said Archie moodily. "What do you want to be a duck for?" said Ike Proctor. "'Cause I could go to the swamp or the river, go a-fishing or frogging, or anywhere I had a mind to, then; but, 'cause I'm only a boy, I have to stay in prison." Hugh Crawford, who was putting a handle to an axe before the door, heard the remark. The disconsolate tone in which it was uttered touched him; and he said,-- "You shall go fishing, Archie; and Ike and Bobby too. I'll take my rifle, and go with you, as soon as I put this axe-handle on, and wedge it." The boys ran to get their lines and bait, and were soon following the trail of the ducks. CHAPTER X. LIBERTY IS SWEET.