The summer was nearly over. It had been a beautiful period, warm and dry, but with enough rain to keep the rivers and small lakes running fresh, and giving good food and cover for all the life that abounds in the water areas. The ducks had had a good breeding season and most of the young had grown strong, and set off on their own, to try to combat the hazards they would meet.
One little grey duck seemed to spend most of her time on her own, but was quite happy, swimming around her special feeding areas. Life seemed very comfortable, plenty of food, the eels seemed to have sufficient food also, and she had not had the frightening experience of an eel grabbing for a leg, to drag her down under the water. She knew that did happen, her Mother had told all the ducklings of the dreadful things that could happen to them, and she had actually seen some of her family disappear; caught by an eel. Another danger was what Mother called “guns”. People carried them and somehow these guns made a dreadful noise and something hit the ducks, flying high above the water, and the ducks fell, dead. She was very frightened about the thought of this happening, and hoped that some of the older ducks would be able to tell her when this was likely to happen. In the meantime she paddled around and was very happy.
As the weather became colder, and the days got shorter, the little duck began covering a bigger area, in search of food, and one day swam around a corner of the river and found quite a lot of ducks feeding there. They were big ducks and quite a different colour to her and all her other friends. One very big one swam up to her and began speaking in a deep voice.
“Hullo, and who are you, and where do you come from?” he asked.
“Hullo; I’m very pleased to see you all, but you did give me a fright. I’ve never been in this part of the river before”, she replied.
“Oh, we live near here and swim in the river all day”, he said.
“May I join you for a while”, asked little duck, “I’d like to sit on the bank, in the sun and talk to you all.”
“Sure, come on, and tell us what you are doing all by yourself”, said the big duck, swimming over to the edge of the river.
They all climbed the bank and had a lovely day together.
She found that they were “tame” ducks, which meant that they belonged to people, and were in a pen. The ducks were called home each night, fed with “maize” and shut in a pen. The ducks laid their eggs in the pen in the early mornings and then were fed some nice warm food, called “mash” and then let out to go and spend their day down at the river. It seemed a good safe life and she was very interested. Her new friends didn’t have to search for food unless they really wanted to, for they were well fed, and also they were not at all frightened of people. When she asked about the “guns”, she was told that her information was correct, but that sort of thing didn’t happen to the “tame” ducks.
At last the afternoon was drawing to a close, and they said it was time for them to start off for their pen, so she sadly swam away.