Another two strokes and we shall row him down.
"Now then!" cries our coxswain.
Ah! At a tremendous pace our boat flew forward over the very place where, a second before, our duck had been.

But where was he?
By a turn of the hand he had twisted round his punt, and as our fellows dug their oars wildly into the water and tried to pull up, there was he, calmly scuttling away in an opposite direction, and laughing at us! In due time we had swung round, and were after him again, the wiser for this lesson.
Next time we overhauled him we made our approach in a far more gingerly manner.

We kept as little way as possible on our boat, determined not to lose time again by overshooting our mark.

As long as he could, our duck led us down stream, then, when we had all but caught him, he made a feint of swooping off to the right, a manoeuvre which our coxswain promptly followed.

But no sooner was our rudder round than the rogue deftly brought his punt sharp to the left, and so once more escaped us.
This sort of thing went on for a long time, and I was beginning to think the hunt was likely to prove a monotonous affair after all, when our coxswain suddenly called to me down the boat-- "Be ready, Adams." Then it began gradually to dawn on me our coxswain after all knew what he was about.