106 IN FLORIDA. 



" I should say about a mile." 



" That is the way always," was the disgusted re- 

 sponse, " you pretend to be great sportsmen, but you 

 say every bird we meet is too far off. If I knew 

 how to shoot, I wouldn't be making excuses all the 

 time. If we ever come to Florida again, I hope we 

 will have somebody with us who can hit his mark, 

 and not pretend that every bird is too far off." 



At this the fair speaker retired below just as the 

 crane disappeared over the distant trees. 



It was several days after this occurrence that we 

 saw what we took to be another whooping crane 

 standing at the edge of the water, not far from some 

 bushes. He was quite white, and towered up against a 

 back ground of grass and sand-bar till his head seem- 

 ed to come in line with the trees beyond, and his body 

 to be as tall as that of a man. The yacht was slow- 

 ly approaching him by the aid of a light breeze, and 

 Mr. Green was growing more excited the nearer we 

 came. The crane stood motionless, not alarmed at 

 the bigger bird, which was gradually swooping down 

 upon him, and apparently quite tame. 



Mr. Green had redeemed his reputation with the 

 rifle of late, my sarcasm about the Limpkin, and 

 some ironical allusions from the doctor Lad improv- 

 ed his aim, so that we no longer smiled incredulously 

 when he brought out his rifle. In fact he was a 

 splendid shot, as his innumerable prizes taken at 

 tournaments abundantly proved, but the motion of 

 the yacht had at first unsettled his aim. There was 

 not more than half a mile between us and the bird, 



