THE WILD MOTHER 233 



his breath that you would hardly expect a mere 

 man and a game warden to say. But most men 

 have a good deal of the mother in them ; and the 

 old bird had acted with such decision, such cour- 

 age, such swift, compelling instinct, that any man, 

 short of the wildest savage, would have felt his 

 heart quicken at the sight. 



Just how compelling might that mother-instinct 

 be? I wondered. Just how much would that 

 mother-love stand? 



I had dropped to my knees, and on all fours 

 had crept up within about three feet of the bird. 

 She still had a chance for flight. Would she allow 

 us to crawl any nearer? Slowly, very slowly, I 

 stretched forward on my hands, like a measuring 

 worm, until my body lay flat on the rocks, and 

 my fingers were within three inches of her. But 

 her wings were twitching; a wild light danced in 

 her etyes; and her head turned itself toward the 

 sea. 



For a whole minute I did not stir. Then the 

 wings again began to tighten about the babies ; 

 the wild light in the eyes died down; the long, 

 sharp beak turned once more toward me. Then 

 slowly, very slowly, I raised my hand, and gently 



