38 The King of the Thundering Herd 



of the two rusty mules and the strange 

 procession, old Brindle bringing up the 

 rear, had started upon its long trip across 

 what was then, for at least a part of the 

 way, a wild and desolate country. 



All the exultant sounds of spring were in 

 the air. The hoarse, glad cry of the wood- 

 cock was heard in the bottom-lands, and 

 the more rasping note of the jack-snipe 

 came up from the marshes. Killdeer 

 whistled in the uplands; the cardinal ex- 

 ulted in the sumac ; and many a shy little 

 songster greeted the passers-by from bram- 

 ble or thicket. 



The swift-moving wedge of wild geese 

 went honking by overhead ; and though the 

 sound was not musical, it was exultant, and 

 stirred the blood like a bugle-call to arms. 

 The long-legged sand-hill crane wheeled in 

 the upper air, and the sun was often fairly 

 darkened with scudding flocks of chatter- 

 ing wood-pigeons. 



