THE SICK BOY 125 



" It is mother's hand ! " he said. 



He began to revive. His eyes opened, and he said: 



" I knew it was your hand. I am coming back." 



Mrs. Audubon looked up to the sky where a star was 

 shining, and she breathed a prayer and a thanksgiving. It 

 was a happy hour. 



The doctor came on horseback and looked at the boy. 



" The fever has turned," he said. " While the sky is 

 clear, let him lie here under the trees." 



In the night the fever abated. She brought him 

 water from the spring near, and he repeated over and 

 over: 



" O mother, I am so glad that you have come! " 



There was a light dew that night, but the sun rose the 

 next morning in a clear sky, and the atmosphere seemed 

 burning. The beech-woods spread out their great arms 

 over the wagon, and the forest birds gathered in the thick, 

 cool shade. 



As soon as Victor was out of danger Audubon's 

 thoughts turned to the birds again, and he began to talk 

 with the convalescent about them. He pointed to the pine 

 bowers that rose dark in the hot air, and said: 



" There, through the clear, rarefied atmosphere, the 

 raven spreads his wings, and as he onward sails rises higher 

 and higher each bold sweep that he makes, as if conscious 

 that the nearer he approaches the sun the more glistening 

 will become the tints of his plumage. 



