We left Don and his party grumbling over the ill luck that had attended their efforts to entice the big flock of ducks they found off Powell’s Island within range of their double-barrels; and Bogus, ole Eph’s stump-tailed yellow dog, which had so faithfully performed his allotted task, trying to make them understand that it was through no fault of his that the wild fowl had gone off without giving them a chance for a shot. Egan accused his friends of showing the tops of their hats above the grass, but recalled the words when he discovered the Firefly coming around the head of the island. Egan was not aware that her crew had come down there on purpose to keep an eye on him and his party, but such we know to be the fact.
There being no more ducks in sight for Bogus to try his arts upon, Egan proposed that they should take a short sail, and then go back to Eph’s cabin and dine upon the terrapins which the old negro had been instructed to have ready for them; but just then a flock of shore birds flew over, and at the suggestion of Hopkins, who thought a few willets would make an acceptable addition to their dinner, they shouldered their guns and set out in pursuit of them. It was while they were walking along the beach that they found Barr’s big gun, which lay at the foot of a tree, covered with bushes and calamus grass. In the effort he made to step over it, Curtis kicked away some of the grass, thus exposing the stock of the gun to his astonished gaze.
“What in the name of all that’s wonderful is this?” he exclaimed, backing away from the weapon as if he were afraid of it. “Why, Egan, I believe it is one of those big guns you told us about last night.”
It did not take Egan long to kick away the rest of the grass, and then he and Curtis got under the gun and raised it to a perpendicular, so that everybody in the party could have a good look at it. They examined it with the liveliest curiosity, walking around it and viewing it from all sides; and there was the crew of the Firefly, watching their movements through a spy-glass, and eager to report them to the owner of the gun, who was in his sink-box a few miles above.
“What are you going to do with it?” asked Bert, after he and the rest had looked the ponderous weapon over so closely that they were sure they would know a big gun the next time they saw one.
