206 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



After the last stoop, he lit on the bar and glared 

 savagely around him for a few minutes, then 

 rose and came directly over my head. His keen 

 eye had sighted me instantly, and as he went 

 by he eyed me fiercely. Had I not alarmed him 

 he probably would have changed his tactics and 

 remained on the bar till some luckless duck 

 came along on the wing and gave him an oppor- 

 tunity for a chase. 



As evening drew on the birds threw off their 

 sleepy ways and most of them left the bar for 

 good. At sundown I was almost alone, so I 

 slipped out for a moment to examine the mud 

 for traces of the great three-toed tracks of my 

 whoopers. And I found them in plenty, baked 

 into the mud like prehistoric lithographs, so I 

 scurried again for cover. But the dusk stole 

 over the lake; a southerly wind sprang up and 

 rustled mournfully among the crinkling leaves; 

 and the wavelets began to whisper and then talk 

 aloud along the shore ; and soon night had come. 

 But the great birds I sought did not, so reluc- 

 tantly I slipped away to find a more sheltered 

 spot for a night camp. 



It was only now that I realized that all my 

 matches were in the pockets of my trousers, and 



