Hukweem the Night Voice. 149 



there was nothing to be seen on the nest-bog. I 

 feared that something had heard their whistling and 

 put an untimely end to the young Hukweems while 

 mother bird was away. But when she came back, 

 after a more fearful survey than usual of the old bark 

 canoe, two downy little fellows came bobbing to meet 

 her out of the grass, where she had hidden them and 

 told them to stay till she came back. 



It was a rare treat to watch them at their first feed- 

 ing, the little ones all eagerness, bobbing about in the 

 delight of eating and the wonder of the new great 

 world, the mother all tenderness and watchfulness. 

 Hukweem had never looked to me so noble before. 

 This great wild mother bird, moving ceaselessly with 

 marvelous grace about her little ones, watching their 

 play with exquisite fondness, and watching the great 

 dangerous world for their sakes, now chiding them 

 gently, now drawing near to touch them with her 

 strong bill, or to rub their little cheeks with hers, 

 or just to croon over them in an ecstasy of that 

 wonderful mother love which makes the summer 

 wilderness beautiful, — in ten minutes she upset all 

 my theories, and won me altogether, spite of what 

 I had heard and seen of her destructiveness on the 

 fishing grounds. After all, why should she not fish 

 as well as I ? 



