CHAPTER IV 



ON THE STAMPING-GROUND 



AS usual, the sharp-tails were there long 

 before me. This must not be taken to im- 

 ply a tardiness on my part, for the alarm 

 clock had rattled at three a. m.^ and now after 

 a sharp walk of a mile and a half, the sun had 

 not yet peeped over the hazy rim of the prairie. 

 Even thus early the dance was going on merrily, 

 and as I climbed the railway fence and started 

 across the mowed hay-land, I could plainly see 

 the dancers half a mile ahead on a bare knoll, 

 spinning back and forth over the sod like so 

 many self-propelled bowling-balls. " Cock- 

 a-luk, koo, poom! " — their voices drifted out into 

 the morning world — a mystical call, which, like 

 the hoot of the owl, the cooing of a dove, or the 

 thunder of the wing of the ruffed grouse, seems 

 to defy all physical laws and to be increased 

 rather than diminished by distance. 



They had been dancing thus in the darkness 



55 



