LADY JANE THE SWAN 73 



never tried to rise out of the water as a duck would, but 

 ran or swam forty or fifty yards in the wind, flapping her 

 wings before finally taking the air. It is doubtful whether 

 this great bird can rise into the air without this prelim- 

 inary run. It is certain Lady Jane never did. 



When the wildlings began to come north, Lady Jane 

 became very restless, and trumpeted a great deal. She 

 would take long flights, but by sundown was always sit- 

 ting in her own pond, with her long neck curled over her 

 back with just her black bill sticking out of the feathers — 

 the only black spot on a ball of snow. 



One morning, just at sunrise, all were startled by a 

 regular trumpet concert. Some were trumpets as heavy 

 as a bass horn, others were as shrill as a flute, and there 

 were all notes in between. One who has never heard such 

 a concert can scarcely imagine its power. These swans 

 can trumpet as loud as a professional horn player. In 

 fact, their voices can be heard for two or three miles. 



Peeping out of the window, the boy saw a large flock of 

 swans sitting in the pond. They had doubtless been at- 

 tracted by Lady Jane. Immediately a gander started mak- 

 ing love to her, and she acted perfectly delighted at find- 

 ing others of her kind. 



The flock stayed about the pond most of the forenoon. 

 When the flock left. Lady Jane hesitated, but when they 

 circled back over the pond calling, she finally followed. 

 !No one ever again saw her so as to identify her, tho 

 one night in autumn a flock of swans spent the night in 

 the pond where she had lived so long and some of them 

 helped themselves to the corn in the crib. 



Of course you have already guessed that swans are 

 web-footed swimming birds, belonging to the Anseres. 



