die. Possibly all of this flock might be killed, 
excepting, of course, those on guard, who would 
not eat at this time. 
Poor Jim Crow! Man’s cunning had been 
greater than his own limited knowledge of the 
evils of this world. This was the flock of which 
he was now a member. Unhesitatingly he 
picked up grain after grain of the poisoned food. 
He fed hurriedly for he was hungry and night 
was shutting down. When a little later sharp, 
unnatural pains began to shoot through his 
body he arose and flew. 
His course was not for the woods or the swamp, 
but straight across the fields he went as though 
bound for a-certain spot he longed to reach. On 
and on he fled in the direction of the big house 
on Cow Heaven plantation. Night had fallen 
and he could see the lights in the windows. 
His heart was scarcely beating and a great mist 
had covered his eyes. Panting heavily he crossed 
the barnyard, sinking lower at every stroke of 
his failing wings. With one last final effort he 
plunged downward toward his old perch in the 
fig bush. But he never reached it. A shadow 
lol 
