THE COW-BIRD 



rest, shade, water, grass and Gypsy, with whom to make friends. 

 And to me Bob meant the best person of all to whom to appeal 

 for help, for "the birds know when the friend they love is nigh," 

 and despite the deafening explosions of the gas-engine, the steady 

 rumble of the balance-wheel, the creaking of the turning-table, 

 the rattling rod-lines, the constant wash of the streams of crude 

 oil that poured into the great black tanks, and the sharp metallic 

 click of the valves as it gushed through the pipe-lines, the birds 

 clustered about Bob until there were a half-dozen there to every 

 one on any other lease along the river. 



Paradise on the Wabash meant Bob's lease to me. I always 

 stopped when passing and almost every day there was some won- 

 der in store for me. For the birds trusted Bob, just as men 

 trusted him, were unafraid just as women were unafraid, and 

 loved him as little children everywhere loved him. Patience left 

 the road, crossed the grass to the tree he liked best and stood lip- 

 ping the bark or watching down the path. I lay back on the seat 

 and closed my aching eyes. The horse neighed sharply. There 

 was a clear whistle and the bark of a dog in answer; a second 

 later the pointer leaped the fence and came dashing down the 

 path to touch noses with her friend. Then a man's head came to 

 light among the bushes, his shoulders lifted above the bank ; with 

 a spring to equal the dog's he cleared the fence and came hurry- 

 ing to the carriage. 



As I watched him a warm wave of gratitude swept my heart. 

 Bob always had understood, and there were so very few others 

 who had. I had found such various people in my work. Of the 

 land-owners about the country many had opened their gates, laid 

 down their fences, and given me freedom to go wherever my sub- 

 jects called me. Some had left the plow and harvesting to assist 



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