Atalapha, a Winged Brownie 
ahead, for such is the way of the Great Northern 
Bat. 
For long after the arrival of the van, the he Bats 
came straggling into that welcome woods. The 
sun went down, the moon arose, and still belated 
wanderers drifted in, yet some there were that 
never came at all, that failed and fell by the way. 
But early, among those that never flagged, was 
Atalapha; he had attached himself to the big Bat 
that really was his father, and flying as he flew, he 
got the help of larger wisdom, for the old Bat 
changed his course to fit the air currents. He 
avoided a head wind. He sought for aiding blasts. 
He shunned the higher ridges that make fighting 
swirls of air. He neither speeded nor slacked nor 
sailed, but kept up the steady, slow flap, flap, flap 
that eats up miles and leagues and makes great 
headway with the least of drain. So passed the 
day on the first long trek, and Atalapha’s travels 
and broader education had begun. 
It was a night or two before the Bats were rested 
enough to continue their journey. And now they 
took shorter stages, for the frost fear that had come 
upon them in the north was goading them no 
longer. Now also they went at times by night. 
At last they reached the sea and followed the main 
shoreline with the land to the sunset side and the 
164 
