“Do you like coyotes?”
“I like to hear them nights.”
“So do I. Better than anything, except seeing a ship sailing along through the country.”
“There’s a boat doing that over there, sir.”
“On the Sile canal,” the Colonel told him. “She’s a sailing barge going to Venice. This wind is off the mountains now and she makes it along pretty good. It’s liable to turn really cold tonight if this wind holds and it ought to bring in plenty ducks. Turn to your left here and we’ll run along the canal. There’s a good road.”
“They didn’t have much duck shooting where I came from. But there was plenty of it in Nebraska along the Platte.”
“Do you want to shoot where we’re going?”
“I don’t believe so, sir. I’m not much of a shot, and I’d rather stay in that sack. It’s a Sunday morning, you know.”
“I know,” the Colonel said. “You can stay in the sack until noon if you want.”
“I brought my repellent. I ought to sleep O.K.”
“I’m not sure you’ll need it,” the Colonel said. “Did you bring any K-rations or Ten in One? They’re liable to eat Italian food, you know.”
“I brought a few cans to help out and a little stuff to give away.”
“That’s good,” the Colonel said.
He was looking ahead now to see where the canal road joined the main highway again. There he knew that he would see it on a clear day such as this was. Across the
