CHAPTER XIII 



IN QUEST OF A NIGHT-ROOST 



SOMEWHERE out to the westward a 

 whooping crane lifted up his mighty voice 

 in a shout that rolled far across the prairie ; 

 and presently three of these great birds appeared 

 above the horizon. They came from the direc- 

 tion of the lake and were on their way to supper 

 on the broad wheat-fields that on every hand 

 stretched away for miles. Presently as they 

 went by at closer range — close enough for the 

 swish of each huge wing to be plainly heard, yet 

 still far out of gun-shot — they proved to be a 

 family party. This was evident from the fact 

 that the smallest bird of the three had, instead 

 of the immaculately white plumage of the other 

 two, a considerable sprinkling of yellow feathers 

 in his coat, which garb proclaimed him a juve- 

 nile. With necks far out-thrust straight ahead, 

 black, slender legs trailing in the rear, and black- 

 tipped, giant pinions wliiffling in unison, they 



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