Vintage Vampire Stories Read Free Page A

he did not take into consideration, the differences of his own figure and that of a daddy-longlegs; indeed, honest Pedro was not the only person in the world who had not a true perception of himself, whatever may be the case at present—times have changed since then. Well, he boldly turned off from the broad well-beaten path, and took the narrow footway across the marsh, over which he had not proceeded far, singing louder than ever, for the cool air of the evening put him in spirits, when, on a sudden, up got before him a large bird, flying slowly along, as if perfectly heedless of his presence.
    â€œA wild duck, as I live!” exclaimed Pedro to himself; “if I can manage to send an arrow into that gentleman’s neck, to stop his flight, I will take it home to my wife for supper, and thus save my own ears.”
    Whereupon, throwing his viola over his shoulder, he seized his bow, and let fly a bolt directly at the bird. The creature uttered a cry just like a wild duck, and continued its course as slowly as before. Pedro felt certain he had hit it; indeed, he fancied that he could hear the arrow strike, it was so near; he probably had broken one of its legs and another bolt would bring it down. Again he let fly, but with equal want of success; the bird turned off a little on one side, and Pedro followed. He was not a man to be deterred by disappointments, particularly in his present humour; arrow after arrow he shot away ineffectually; the bird kept the same distance before him; and so eager was he in the pursuit that he quite forgot the direction he had taken. The ground beneath his feet became every instant more wet and swampy, but on he splashed through the water, his ears already tingling at the thoughts of returning home without a peace offering to his dear Gertrudes. What a blessing it is to have a wife to keep one in order!
    â€œThe next shot must bring the beast down, to a certainty,” he cried, as he let fly his seventh arrow; but the bird only uttered a loud, derisive, “quack, quack, quack!” and flew on at an increased speed.
    It now appeared to honest Pedro to be a larger bird than he had at first thought it; but this only made him the more anxious to have it for his supper. On he ran, almost out of breath, not quite so lightly as he expected, for he was frequently up to his knees in mud and water, now and then he sank still deeper, and more than once came down on his face; but he was a true sportsman, not to be thrown out by such trifling accidents. Again he shot, and he was certain that he saw some feathers fly off from the bird, which went “quack, quack, quack,” louder than ever.
    â€œAh! Senhor Goose, I’ll have you now,” exclaimed Pedro; “clever as you think yourself, you are no match for Pedro Pacheco, let me tell you.”
    â€œQuack, quack, quack!” went the goose, and flew on, Pedro pursuing.
    In a few minutes more, poor Pedro was thoroughly wet through, now up to his middle in water, now sprawling like a tortoise, on his back with his legs in the air, now with his face in the mud, but he somehow or other always contrived to get on his feet again. Have the goose he would, if he went on all night, he was determined. Pedro now lost his temper, as well he might, for it was provoking to run such a chase when he wanted to get home. To add to his difficulties, the sky, which had hitherto been clear, was now obscured by clouds: and when, while once on his back, he looked up to see what had become of the moon, he could no where behold her. There was, however, just light enough to see the strange creature which he still persisted in considering a goose or a duck, for he was, as may have been seen, in rather an obstinate humour. Whatever it was, it had now grown larger than ever, and every arrow Pedro shot stuck it, but it cared no more for them than if they had been so many toothpicks, only giving vent to more unearthly quack, quack, quacks. A man in