134 IN THE DAYS OF AUDUBON 



Let us recall like stories amid these scenes under the 

 beech-wood shadows at evening. Victor may have lain in 

 the wagon; his mother watched by his side, and the ever- 

 faithful dog could listen to a wonder tale if he could not 

 understand it. 



IN THE SWAMPS OF THE YAZOO 



We have now a very strange story to tell, and it belongs 

 to a period of American life long passed away. 



It was sultry noon on the banks of the Mississippi. 

 Afar lay the great, dark, almost impenetrable swamps of 

 the Yazoo, the home of the ibis. Here, too, was the haunt 

 of the alligator; k might be said that here were cities of 

 alligators. The land was green with reeds and deep with 

 mire. The poisonous serpent coiled here, and the air was 

 poison. 



But into the reeds of the poisoned air Audubon went, 

 intent on doing the perfect work of his almost solitary 

 calling. 



He came one day to a miry weir, where the wood ibises 

 lived among the slimy reptiles. He was wading through the 

 weir with his dog Plato, and his knife drawn as a defense 

 against alligators, when the waters grew deep, and he flung 

 his traveling bag to the shore. 



He presently gained the short, when his dog became 

 greatly excited. Audubon looked around for the cause. 



"Stand still or die!" 



