BIRD STORIES 



a boat, the wee-est loon would have sailed off faster 

 yet on the back of his father; and when you grew tired 

 and stopped, you would have heard, as if mocking you, 

 the old bird give, in a laughing voice, the Tremble Song: 



"O, ha-ha-ha, ho! — 0, ha-ha-ha, ho! — 

 O, ha-ha-ha, ho! — 0, ha-ha-ha, ho! — " 



If you had tried again a few days later, the young 

 loon would have been able to dive and swim by him- 

 self out of sight under water, the old ones giving him 

 warning of danger and telling him what to do. 



But no child chased the two Olairs and no law- 

 breaker fired a shot at Gavia or Father Loon. They 

 had frights and narrow escapes in plenty without that; 

 but those were of the sorts that loons get used to cent- 

 ury after century, and not modern disasters, Hke guns, 

 that people have recently brought into wild places. 

 For the only man who dwelt on the shore of Immer 

 Lake was a minister. 



Because he loved his fellow men, this minister of 

 Immer Lake spent part of his days among them, doing 

 such service to the weak of spirit as only a minister 

 can do, who has faith that there is some good in every 

 person. At such times he was a sort of servant to all 

 who needed him. 



Because he loved, also, his fellow creatures who had 

 lived in the beautiful wild places of this land much 



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