I II 



was ended he would get excited again, and 



swim about in small circles, spreading wings 



and tail, showing his fine feathers as if every J^uAtcfeem 



echo were an admiring loon, pleased as a jr^-^^^^ 



peacock with himself at having made such 



a noise in a quiet world. 



There was another loon, a mother bird, on 

 a different lake, whose two eggs had been 

 carried off by a thieving muskrat ; but she 

 did not know who did it, for Musquash 

 knows how to roll the eggs into water and 

 carry them off, before eating, where the 

 mother bird will not find the shells. She 

 came swimming down to meet us the moment 

 our canoe entered the lake; and what she 

 seemed to cry was, " Where are they .? O, 

 where are they 1 " She followed us across 

 the lake, accusing us of robbery, and asking 

 the same question over and over. 



But whatever the meaning of Hukweem's 

 crying, it seems to constitute a large part of 

 his existence. Indeed, it is as a cry that he 

 is chiefly known — the wild, unearthly cry 

 of the wilderness night. His education for 

 this begins very early. Once I was exploring 



