THE LONE FISHER 



closer to the tree trunks in order to keep warm when the 

 chill winds blew. One morning when they went to look for 

 a breakfast they foimd that Mother Nature, at the bidding 

 of the frost king, had locked their storehouse for the winter. 

 Nothing was left for them to do but to fly away in search of 

 food elsewhere. 



Remembering her experience of yesteryear, the sensible 

 mother decided to follow the stream which had provided for 

 them so bountifully in the days of their prosperity. After 

 one last long look at the scene of their joys and sorrows, a 

 scene which would linger long in their memories, down the 

 river they went, the mother leading and the young one, now 

 as large and almost as strong as herself, following. Stop- 

 ping only occasionally for needed rest and the scant refresh- 

 ment to be found at that season on the ground — on down 

 they flew, past the place where the stream joined a larger 

 one, and that a still larger one, and across broad waters, till 

 they reached a spot which reminded them somewhat of the 

 old home in its palmiest days. Though like the old home 

 in a way, it was different; there was a bank — more cozy than 

 the home bank — and water — but the plants were not at all 

 like those they had known. 



They knew it was best for them to stay here for a time, 

 so they made the best of things, but they could not feel any 

 attachment for the place. Their hearts were in the North, 

 where life is not a mere matter of eating and drinking — the 

 place where homes are made. All winter they longed for 

 it, till, at last, when spring was coming on, they could endure 

 the homesickness no longer. 



Over the water they went, and on up the river and on. 

 It was a long and wearj' journey, but not half so long as it 

 had seemed in the autumn, for home was at the end of it. 



113 



