How Animals Talk 



there at one time. Single large birds, the drakes 

 undoubtedly, were moving leisurely over the open 

 spaces. Groups of five or six, each a brood from 

 some neighboring pond, were gliding in an explor- 

 ing kind of way under the banks or through the 

 weed-beds; and scattered along the shore at the 

 end of the alder run were wisps or companies ot 

 the birds, all preening or dozing with an air of 

 complete security. Here at last was my chance, 

 my perfect chance, I told myself, as I carefully 

 marked one brood standing at the tip of the 

 grassy point where my tunnel ended. 



More carefully than ever I stalked a bear, I 

 circled through the black growth, crept under the 

 fringe of larches, and entered the alder run unob- 

 served. Inch by inch I wormed along the secret 

 passageway, flat to the ground, not once raising my 

 head, hardly daring to pull a full breath, till, just 

 as I emerged from the alder shade into the grass, 

 a gamy scent in my nose and a low gabble in my 

 ears told me that I was almost near enough, that 

 the birds were all around me, and that for the rest 

 of the way I must move as a shadow. 



From under my hat-brim I located the gabblers, 

 a large family of black mallards outside the fringe 

 of grass on my left. They were abreast of me, 

 not more than five or six feet away. I had not 

 marked these birds when I began my stalk; they 



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