He knew that in an excursion like the present it was not every day that a fat doe turned up; or when it did, that such a portion of its carcass was likely to fall to his share.
It was still early, wanting full two hours of sunset, when the hunters finished their supper--dinner it should rather be called--as, with the exception of some dry mouthfuls at their noon halt, they had not eaten since breakfast.
When the meal was over, Basil again looked to repairing the harness of the mule--that had got out of order on the march--while Lucien drew out his note-book and pencil, and, sitting down upon a buffalo-robe, commenced entering his observations for the day.

Francois having no employment, resolved upon creeping around the edge of the bayou, to have a shot at the flamingoes, if he should be lucky enough to get near them.
This he knew would be no easy matter, but he had made up his mind to try it; and, having told his brothers of his intention, he shouldered his gun and went off.
He was soon out of sight, having passed into some thick timber that grew along the edge of the water, through which there was a plain trail made by deer and other wild animals.

He kept along this trail, sheltering himself behind the trees, so that the flamingoes, that were several hundred yards farther down the bayou, might not see him as he approached.
He had not been out of sight more than five minutes, when Basil and Lucien were startled by the report of a gun, and then another following quickly after.

They knew it was Francois' fowling-piece; but what had he fired at?
It could not have been the flamingoes, as he had not had time to get within range of them.

Besides, the birds, where they had been sitting on the far shore, were visible from the camp; and all of them, affrighted by the reports, were now seen winging their way over the tops of the trees.