I was greatly flattered by Jean's wholly unwarranted confidence in my
marksmanship and eager to justify it at the earliest moment.
"No time like the present," said I, picking up the gun and filling my
pocket with cartridges. "Besides, we have a surprise to show you."
So we started out in the gathering darkness, I going first, as became
the bearer of the gun; Jean at my heels; Jack and Marjorie a little in
the rear. Down the steep edge of the gully we worked, and then along by
the marge of the brown snow-water which rippled happily over beds of
bending grass. It was quite dark in the little valley, and I had to hold
Jean's hand to guard against the possibility of her slipping into the
stream.
At a short distance we came to the spot where the valley broadened out
and the little grove of trees had found its place of shelter from
Chinook winds in winter and prairie fires in spring and fall. The air
was full of the sweet scent of bursting willow buds and balm-o'-Gilead,
and as we picked our steps as noiselessly as we could the slightly
stirring limbs above us wrought their dark tracery against the blue and
starry heaven.
"Oh, Frank! You never told me of this! How wonderful!"
"Wait until you see the pond," I whispered, as one who keeps the best to
the last. "We did not select Fourteen and Twenty-two without a reason."
There was no path between the slim, close-growing trunks of poplar and
balm, and we had to make progress as best we could. . . . Jack and
Marjorie had fallen considerably behind.
Then, suddenly, the still waters of the pond burst upon our view, and at
the same moment, as though the very heavens conspired to set the stage
to the best advantage, a blood-red moon sent its first pinion of light
sweeping down from the north-east and splashing burnt-orange and ochre
across the slightly ruffled surface of the pond. We stood for a time as
mortals transfixed, watching the great red globe drawing swiftly into
the blue above, until its light painted Jean's face and mine. In the
moonlight her fine features were wonderful, irresistible . . . . .
We were brought to earth by a flutter and splashing in the water. Two
ducks, sweeping swiftly down out of the darkness, alighted not a dozen
yards in front of us, and directly in the line of light. I drew my gun
to my shoulder, and even as I did so their murmured grumblings, sibilant
almost as the lisp of water on a gravelly shore, came to our ears, and
they began to swim slowly about in graceful little circles. There was
even a motion about the head of the male, as he brought it close to that
of his mate, that was surely nothing short of a caress.
"Don't, Frank, don't; you mustn't!" Jean exclaimed suddenly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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