284 Old White Wing 



the haystacks and barnyards, much against the pro- 

 test of Old White Wing. But what could he do 

 against the gnawing pangs of hunger, when day by 

 day he saw his loved ones starving? It would have 

 been better had he and his band migrated far south 

 to the Delaware. 



But a yet greater peril awaited them! A demand 

 for crows' wings had been steadily increasing, and 

 all known schemes for the capture of these birds were 

 being used. Old White Wing was constantly on the 

 watch for danger, but his strength, too, was fast 

 failing, and unless the snow and cold soon broke, 

 spring would come too late to relieve his distress, even 

 if he escaped snare and gun. 



For three days a storm had been raging and the 

 crows were unable to leave their roost. The morn- 

 ing of the fourth day broke clear and crisp and cold, 

 and the birds started on weary wing in search of 

 food. Not far from the hemlocks in an open meadow 

 stood a small barn, directly in the line of one band 

 of crows as they left for their feeding ground the 

 band in command of Old White Wing. As they 

 neared the barn, the hindmost ones were aware that 

 something unusual was taking place in the front 

 ranks. The cause was not far to seek; for near the 

 barn, on the snow, lay the carcass of a calf. Old 



