126 EVERYDAY ADVENTURES 
Through the long narrow valley, hidden between 
two green hills, marched the Band, following the hid- 
den safe path that generations of foxes had made 
through the very middle of a treacherous marsh. 
As the road bent in toward Darby Creek, there 
sounded the watchman’s rattle of the first kingfisher 
they had heard that year; and as they came to the 
creek itself, a vast blue-gray bird with a long neck 
and bill flapped up ahead of them. It was so enor- 
mous that Alice-Palace was positive that it was a 
roc; but it turned out to be the great blue heron, 
the largest bird in Eastern America. 
From the marshy fields swept great flocks of red- 
winged blackbirds, each one showing a yellow- 
bordered, crimson epaulet, proof positive that Mrs. 
Blackbird was still in the South. Mrs. Robin had 
come back the week before, which accounted for the 
joy-songs which sounded from every tree-top. Until 
she comes, the robin’s song is faint and thin and 
infrequent. Beyond the creek they heard the ‘“‘ Quick, 
quick, quick,”’ of the flicker calling to spring, and 
before long they came to the tree where he had 
hollowed his hole. A most intelligent flicker he was, 
too, for his shaft was sunk directly under a sign which 
read “‘No Shooting Here.”’ 
From behind them as they marched, tolled the low 
sweet bell-notes of the mourning dove — “Ah — 
coo, coo, coo.”” The Captain tried to imitate the 
sound, and the harassed bird stood it as long as he 
could, but finally flew away with whistling wings. 
Then the Captain told the Band of a brave mother- 
