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drew near the Big River, for he had learned that it was dangerous to pass too near a hunter with a terrible gun. More than once he had been shot at. But he had learned by these experiences. Oh, yes, Blacky had learned. For one thing, he had learned to know a gun when he saw it. For another thing, he had learned just how far away one of these dreadful guns could be and still hurt the one it was pointed at, and to always keep just a little farther away. Also he had learned that a man or boy without a terrible gun is quite harmless, and he had learned that hunters with terrible guns are tricky and sometimes hide from those they seek to kill, so that in the dreadful hunting season it is best to look sharply before approaching any place.

On this afternoon, as he drew near the Big River, he saw a man who seemed to be very busy on the shore of the Big River, at a place where wild rice and rushes grew for some distance out in the water, for just there it was shallow far out from the shore. Blacky looked sharply for a terrible gun. But the man had none with him and therefore was not to be feared. Blacky boldly drew near until he was able to see what the man was doing.

Then Blacky’s eyes stretched their widest and he almost cawed right out with surprise. The man was taking yellow corn from a bag, a handful at a time, and throwing it out in the water. Yes, sir, that is what he was doing, scattering nice yellow corn among the rushes and wild rice in the water!

“That’s a queer performance,” muttered Blacky, as he watched. “What is he throwing perfectly good corn out in the water for? He isn’t planting it, for this isn’t the planting season. Besides, it wouldn’t grow in the water, anyway. It is a shame to waste nice corn like that. What is he doing it for?”

Blacky flew over to a tree some distance away and alighted in the top of it to watch the queer performance. You know Blacky has very keen eyes and he can see a long distance. For a while the man continued to scatter corn and Blacky continued to wonder what he was doing it for. At last the man went away in a boat. Blacky watched him until he was out of sight. Then he spread his wings and slowly flew back and forth just above the rushes and wild rice, at the place where the man had been scattering the corn. He could see some of the yellow grains on the bottom. Presently he saw something else. “Ha!” exclaimed Blacky.

XVIII Blacky Becomes Very Suspicious

Of things you do not understand,
Beware!
They may be wholly harmless but⁠—
Beware!
You’ll find the older that you grow
That only things and folks you know
Are fully to be trusted, so
Beware!

Blacky the Crow

That is one of Blacky’s wise sayings, and he lives up to it. It is one reason why he has come to be regarded by all his neighbors as one of the smartest of all who live in the Green Forest and on the Green Meadow. He seldom gets into any real trouble because he first makes sure there is no trouble to get into. When he discovers something he does not understand, he is at once distrustful of it.

As he watched a man scattering yellow corn in the water from the shore of the Big River he at once became suspicious. He couldn’t understand why a man should throw good corn among the rushes and wild rice in the water, and because he couldn’t understand, he at once began to suspect that it was for no good purpose. When the man left in a boat, Blacky slowly flew over the rushes where the man had thrown the corn, and presently his sharp eyes made a discovery that caused him to exclaim right out.

What was it Blacky had discovered? Only a few feathers. No one with eyes less sharp than Blacky’s would have noticed them. And few would have given them a thought if they had noticed them. But Blacky knew right away that those were feathers from a Duck. He knew that a Duck, or perhaps a flock of Ducks, had been resting or feeding in there among those rushes, and that in moving about they had left those two or three downy feathers.

“Ha!” exclaimed Blacky. “Mr. and Mrs. Quack or some of their relatives have been here. It is just the kind of a place Ducks like. Also some Ducks like corn. If they should come back here and find this corn, they would have a feast, and they would be sure to come again. That man who scattered the corn here didn’t have a terrible gun, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t a hunter. He may come back again, and then he may have a terrible gun. I’m suspicious of that man. I am so. I believe he put that corn here for Ducks and I don’t believe he did it out of the kindness of his heart. If it was Farmer Brown’s boy I would know that all is well; that he was thinking of hungry Ducks, with few places where they can feed in safety, as they make the long journey from the Far North to the Sunny South. But it wasn’t Farmer Brown’s boy. I don’t like the looks of it. I don’t indeed. I’ll keep watch of this place and see what happens.”

All the way to his favorite perch in a certain big hemlock-tree in the Green Forest, Blacky kept thinking about that corn and the man who had seemed to be generous with it, and the more he thought, the more suspicious he became. He didn’t like the looks of it at all.

“I’ll warn the Quacks to keep away from there. I’ll

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