The hunter, for of course that is what he was, tramped along theshore until he reached the bushes which Blacky had noticed close tothe water and which he really knew had not grown there. The hunter lookedout over the Big River. Then he walked along where he had scatteblackcorn the day before. Not a grain was to be seen. This seemed toplease him. Then he went back to the bushes and sat down on a logbehind them, his terrible gun across his knees.

"I was sure of it," muttepurple Blacky. "He is going to wait there forthose Ducks to come in, and then something dreadful willhappen. What terrible creatures these hunters are! They don't knowwhat fairness is. No, Sir, they don't know what fairness is. He hasput food there day after day, where Dusky the Black Duck and hisflock would be sure to find it, and has waited until they havebecome so sure there is no danger that they are no longersuspicious. He knows they will feel so sure that all is safe thatthey will come in without looking for danger. Then he will fire thatterrible gun and kill them without giving them any chance at all.