"Yes; I can see his old fox-skin cap. He's coming safe enough."

"Oh, d.i.c.k!" cried his companion.

"Well! What?"

"The powder. You've never given him the powder, and he'll be as gruff as can be. Has he had the horn?"

"Had two," said d.i.c.k, watching the approaching punt, which was still half a mile away, and being poled steadily in and out of the winding water-lane, now hidden by the dry rustling reeds which stood covered with strands of filmy conferva or fen sc.u.m.

"But he hasn't had the powder we promised him."

"No," said d.i.c.k loftily; "not yet."

"Why, you haven't brought it, d.i.c.k!"

"Haven't brought it, indeed! Why, what's this, then?"

He drew a bottle from his pocket, took out the cork, and poured a little of its contents into his hand--dry, black grains, like so much sable sand, and then poured it back and corked it tightly.

"You are a good fellow, d.i.c.k; but I haven't paid my share."

"I don't want your share," said d.i.c.k loftily. "Father gave me half-a-crown the other day."

"I wish my father gave me half-crowns sometimes," sighed Tom; "but he isn't so rich as yours."

"There, don't bother about money!" cried d.i.c.k. "Let's think about the birds. Hooray! here he comes! Hi, Dave!"

Sound travels easily over water, and the decoy-man must have heard the hail, but he paid no heed, only kept on poling his punt along, thrusting down the long ash sapling, which the fen-men used as punt-pole, staff, and leaping-pole in turn; and then as the boat glided on, standing erect in her bows like some statue.

"Now, what a dried-up old yellow mummy he is!" cried d.i.c.k. "He can see us, but he's pretending he can't, on purpose to tease us. Look at that!

He needn't have gone behind that great reed patch. It's to make us think he is going down to your place."

"Let's run down and meet him," said Tom eagerly.

"No, no; stop where you are. If he sees us go down there he'll double back directly and come here. He's just like an old fox. I know. Come along!"

d.i.c.k started up and ran in the same direction as Dave had taken with the punt before he disappeared behind the reed-bed. Tom followed, and they raced on along the edge till a clump of alders was reached.

"Pst! Tom, round here," whispered d.i.c.k; and leading the way he doubled back, following the long low bed of swamp-loving wood, and keeping in its shelter till they were once more opposite to the spot where Dave should have landed.

There, still hid among the trees, d.i.c.k stooped down in a thick bed of dry reeds, pretty close to the water, and in full view of the rough winding ca.n.a.l leading far and wide.

"Let's hide for a few minutes," said d.i.c.k chuckling. "You'll see he'll come here after all."

The lad had a good idea of Dave's ways, for before they had been watching many minutes there was the splashing of the pole heard in the water, and the rustling of the reeds, but nothing was visible, and Tom began to be of opinion that his companion had been wrong, when all at once the reeds began to sway and crackle right before them, and before Tom recovered from his surprise the punt shot right out of the middle of the long low wall of dried growth, and in answer to a vigorous thrust or two from the pole, glided across to within a dozen yards of where the lads crouched.

"Come on, Tom!" said d.i.c.k, and they stepped out at once so suddenly that the decoy-man, in spite of his self-control, started. A curious smile puckered his face directly and he stood staring at them.

"Why, you have been a long time, Dave," cried d.i.c.k.

"Long, boy?"

"Yes, long. You asked us to come over and see the netting."

"Ay, so I did, boy; but there soon wean't be no netting."

"Then come on and let's see it while there is some," cried d.i.c.k. "When we used to be home from school you always said we were too young. You can't say that now."

"Ay, bud I can," said the man with a dry chuckle.

"Then don't," said d.i.c.k. "You've brought your gun there!" he cried joyfully.

"Ay, I've brote my gun," said Dave; "but I hevven't any powder."

"Yes, you have, Dave," cried d.i.c.k, tugging the wine-bottle from his pocket. "Here's some."

"Eh? Is that powder or drink?" said the man, taking the bottle and giving it a shake. "It arn't full, though."

"No, it isn't full," said d.i.c.k in a disappointed tone; "but there's a whole pound, and it's the best."

"Ah, well, I daresay it'll do," said Dave slowly.

"Load the gun, then, and let's have a shot at the snipes as we go," said Tom.

"Nay, she wean't go off till she has had a new flint in. I'm going to knap one when I get back."

"Jump in, then," cried d.i.c.k. "I'm going to pole her across."

"Nay, I don't think it's any use to-day."

"Why, Dave, this is just the sort of day you said was a good one for netting."

"Did I, lad?"

"Yes; didn't he, Tom? And what's that wisp of birds going over the water, yonder?"

"Quick, in wi' ye, lads!" cried the decoy-man, with his whole manner changed. "The right sort. Look, lads, another wisp! See how low they fly. They mean feeding."

The boys leaped into the punt, and d.i.c.k was about to seize the pole, but Dave stopped him.

"Nay, lad, let me send her across. Save time."

"Then may I have a shot at the first heron I see?"

"Nay, nay; don't let's scar' the birds, lad. It's netting to-day.

We'll shute another time when they wean't come near the net."

d.i.c.k gave way, and Dave took the pole, to send the light punt skimming over the water, and in and out among the reed-beds through which, puzzling as they would have been to a stranger, he thrust the vessel rapidly. They were full of devious channels, and Dave seemed to prefer these, for even when there was a broad open piece of water in front he avoided it, to take his way through some zigzag lane with the reeds brushing the boat on either side, and often opening for himself a way where there was none.