It was his only chance, and a slim one at that, for the distance was so great that he hardly expected the shot would take effect; but, when the smoke cleared away, he discovered one of the flock lying motionless on the water, and another, too badly wounded to rise, was swimming slowly around him.

The rest of the flock were skimming along the surface of the creek, toward the swamp.

They were far beyond the range of his gun, and he knew it would do no good to fire at them; so he concluded, to use his own expression, to "make sure of what he had got," and, taking aim at the wounded bird, was about to give it the contents of the other barrel, when he heard the report of a gun some distance further up the creek, and looked up just in time to see one of the birds fall into the water.
"Who's that, I wonder," said Archie, to himself.

"It can't be Frank, for he wouldn't be on that side of the creek; besides, I had a good long start of him." His soliloquy was cut short by the movements of the flock, which, instead of continuing on their course up the creek, rose higher in the air, and flew about in confusion.
This opportunity was not lost by the concealed sportsman, and a second bird came down with a broken wing.

The ducks then wheeled and flew back toward the place where Archie was stationed.