After a dozen fine fat mallards had been brought to bag, Bert declared that it was a sin to shoot any more, and took his place at the oars, while Don sat in the stern and steered.
"These ducks tell us that it is time to go to our shooting-box," said the latter.

"We always wait until they begin to come in before we make up our party, you know." "We ought to go over there and fix up a bit first," said Bert.

"If we don't find anything in our trap, let's go over there and see how things look.

We have had some splendid times in that little shooting-box, haven't we ?" They certainly had, and they found much pleasure in living them over again in imagination.

While they were talking about the many happy hours they had spent there, they reached Bruin's Island, and Don brought the canoe around and ran the bow upon the beach.