There was other quarry to size up and bring to terms. He had his canvas pouch pockets full of birds, whose inert weight bumped against his stride with the majestic bother of all trophies.
Madison carried three ducks by hand. There was still enough baby in him to want to hold them forever, just as they were, just as he had made them, with their tiny head and neck feathering of green and blue fire, their stripes of white, black and brown, their leathery important jaw. He almost pranced in slow dignity as they retuned down the river to the hidden car. All three of them felt the same feelings.
Mr. Pollock unlocked the car and opened the back door on the left side. The back seat was covered by heavy brown wrapping paper-Mr. Pollock’s contribution to the good sense and economy of the expedition. There they put down their bleeding ducks.
This was about nine o’clock. There were no mysteries left in the day. True, it was turning a little colder, for low gray clouds were unfolding from the east. But everything stood clear and simple, so far just like another day.
“Mad, you take the guns and put them in the car,” said Mr. Pollock “I counted one more duck that we knocked down last time. I’ll take Punch and go back and find him. You wait here.”
Madison hadn’t seen another duck fall. But one thing that was never done was to question the father-aloud anyhow. He took Mr. Pollock’s gun, which was left open at the break, and empty shells. He saw the man and the dog trudge off. He went around the car to the other side and opened the front door. There he hurriedly put the two shotguns on the seat, side by side, making the same angle with their open chambers and barrels, muzzles outward. He shut the door on them with a vague feeling of forgetting something, but it seemed more desirable at the moment to get around to the other side of the car in a hurry, in order to watch Mr. Pollock and Punch as they rattled and cracked through the tall reeds up the river. There were a few pauses, while the father would halt and reconstruct the angles of flight, sight, fire and fall. Then the search would continue. Finally Punch gave out His wheezing bark, at the very instant Madison