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208
Animal Heroes
·
Ernest Thompson Seton
95
THE
BOY
AND
THE
LYNX
I
THE
BOY
He
was
barely
fifteen,
a
lover
of
sport
and
uncommonly
keen,
even
for
a
beginner.
Flocks
of
Wild
Pigeons
had
been
coming
all
day
across
the
blue
Lake
of
Cayggeonull,
and
perching
in
line
on
the
dead
limbs
of
the
great
rampikes
that
stood
as
monuments
of
fire,
around
the
little
clearing
in
the
forest,
they
afforded
tempting
marks;
but
he
followed
them
for
hours
in
vain.
They
seemed
to
know
the
exact
range
of
the
old-fashioned
shotgun
and
rose
on
noisy
wings
each
time
before
he
was
near
enough
to
fire.
At
length
a
small
flock
scattered
among
the
low
green
trees
that
grew
about
the
spring,
near
the
log
shanty,
and
taking
advantage
of
the
cover,
Thorburn
went
in
gently.
He
caught
sight
of
a
single
Pigeon
close
to
him,
took
a
long
aim
and
fired.
A
sharp
crack
resounded
at
almost
the
same
time
and
the
bird
fell
dead.
Thorburn
rushed
to
seize
the
prize
just
as
a
tall
young
man
stepped
into
view
and
picked
it
up.
"Hello,
Corney!
you
got
my
bird!"
"Your
burrud!
Sure
yours
flew
away
thayre.
I
saw
them
settle
hayer
and
thought
I'd
make
sure
of
wan
with
the
rifle."
A
careful
examination
showed
that
a
rifle-ball
as
well
as
a
charge
of
shot
had
struck
the
Pigeon.
The
gunners
had
fired
on
the
same
bird.
Both
enjoyed
the
joke,
though
it
had
its
serious
side,
for
food
as
well
as
ammunition
was
scarce
in
that
backwoods
home.
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