126 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 



Through the long narrow valley, hidden between 

 two green hills, marched the Band, following the hid- 

 den safe path that generations of foxes had made 

 through the very middle of a treacherous marsh. 

 As the road bent in toward Darby Creek, there 

 sounded the watchman's rattle of the first kingfisher 

 they had heard that year; and as they came to the 

 creek itself, a vast blue-gray bird with a long neck 

 and bill flapped up ahead of them. It was so enor- 

 mous that Alice-Palace was positive that it was a 

 roc; but it turned out to be the great blue heron, 

 the largest bird in Eastern America. 



From the marshy fields swept great flocks of red- 

 winged blackbirds, each one showing a yellow- 

 bordered, crimson epaulet, proof positive that Mrs. 

 Blackbird was still in the South. Mrs. Robin had 

 come back the week before, which accounted for the 

 joy-songs which sounded from every tree-top. Until 

 she comes, the robin's song is faint and thin and 

 infrequent. Beyond the creek they heard the "Quick, 

 quick, quick," of the flicker calling to spring, and 

 before long they came to the tree where he had 

 hollowed his hole. A most intelligent flicker he was, 

 too, for his shaft was sunk directly under a sign which 

 read "No Shooting Here." 



From behind them as they marched, tolled the low 

 sweet bell-notes of the mourning dove — "Ah — 

 coo, coo, coo." The Captain tried to imitate the 

 sound, and the harassed bird stood it as long as he 

 could, but finally flew away with whistling wings. 

 Then the Captain told the Band of a brave mother- 



