Bird Stories

, no land to walk upon, except islands in the west where the Rocky Mountains are now. That is the only place where the country that is now the United Stat

slender jaws, and they had no wings. They came to the islands, perhaps, only at nesting-time; for their legs and feet were fitted for swimming and not walking, and

ore. In their places were other birds, much smaller-birds with wings and no teeth; but something like them, for all that: for their feet also were f

these second birds have come down to us through perhaps a million years, and live to-day, giving a strange clear cry before a s

ardly been, perhaps, in a million years a handsomer loon afloat on any sea. Even in her w

nd there is never a lack of entertainment. The salt-water bathing, diving, and such other activities as the sea affords, were pleasant for them all. Then, too, the winter months

er

ring of 1920 had gone no further than to melt the ice in the northern

St. John River. I never felt quite sure why Peter Piper left Brazil for the shore where the blue-bells nod. All I can tell you about it is that a feeling came over the loons that is called a mi

er the water, and the bark on these peeled up like pieces of thin and pretty paper. Three wonderful vines trailed through the woodland, and each in its season blossomed into pink and fragrant bells. But what these w

f it? If she delighted so in swimming and diving and chasing wild wing-

them warm. They were not yet out of their eggshells, so the only care they needed for many a long day and night was constant warmth enough for growth.

t of their eggshells,

iled up among the stems of the rushes until it reached six inches or more out of the water. They were really in the centre

after year farther up the lake, chose places on the island near the water-line in the spring; and when the water sank lower later on, they

he alone kept them warm for nearly thirty days and nights; for Father

r head and neck were now a beautiful green, and she wore two white striped collars, while the back of her feather coat was neatly

this time inside those two strong eggshells. At last, however, the nest held the two babies, all

am the waters of Immer Lake, and their nest was home no longer. Peter Piper's chil

a very soft mellow tone, saying, "Olair"; and her voice, though a

but not staying under very long at the beginning). Then, when they were tired or in a hurry, they would ride on the backs of Gavia and Father L

e, even the youngest? Not a bit of it. If you had given chase in a boat, the wee-est loon would have sailed off faster yet on the back of his

a, ho!-O, h

, ho!-O, ha

been able to dive and swim by himself out of sight under water, t

in plenty without that; but those were of the sorts that loons get used to century after century, and not modern disasters, lik

m, doing such service to the weak of spirit as only a minister can do, who has faith that the

iful wild places of this land much longer than any man whatsoever, he s

tant places where he might go. There was no interesting roar of mill or factory making things to use

gently, "Bippo-bappo, bippo-bappo." The trees clapped their leaves together as the breezes bade them. The woodpeckers tapped tunes to each o

mighty will of the wind. The thunder roared applause at the fireworks the lightning made. And best of al

-u-u′ la. A-a-ah

u-u′ la. A-a-ah l

they made. So it was that he sat before his door through many a summer twili

a, ho! O, h

, ho! O, ha

ey floated close to his cottage, feeding

d and give another sort of song. "Oh-a-lee'!" he would begin, with his bill wide open; and then, nearly closing his mouth, he would sing, "Cleo′-pe′′-a-rit′."

-rit′, cleo′-pe′′-a-rit

-rit′, cleo′-pe′′-a-ri

again, while they were growing up; and they must ha

d flipper-like when, about the first of August, they were spending the day, as they often did, in a small cove. They were now about two-thirds grown, and their feathers were white beneath and soft bright brown above, with bars of white spots at their shoulders

of some waterplant, which Gavia brought them, dangling from her bill. Surely never a fresher meal was served than fish just caught and greens just pulled! No wonder it was that the young loons grew fast, and were well and strong. After the t

and helped themselves, for dessert, to some plant growing under water, gulping down rather large mouthfuls of it. Then

under the feathers of his flank. Thus one foot was left in the water, for the bird to paddle with gently while he slept, so that he would not be drifted away by the wind. But that day one of the tired water-babies went so sound asleep that he didn't paddle enough

pping around in a big circle, slapping the water with wing-tips and feet, and making much noise as she spattered the spray all about. Then she quickly poked her h

e napping, Gavia and Fat

me near the four Neighbor Loons, who had left their two fami

d all stop, as suddenly as if one of them had given a signal, and turning, would dash in the opposite direction, racing to and fro again and again and again. Oh! it was a grand race, and there is no knowing how long they would have kept it up, had not something startled them so that they all stopped and sang the Tremble S

water and take to flight. Though it was rather a hard matter to get started, when they were once under way they flew wonderfully well, and the different pairs seemed to enjoy setting their wings and sailing close togeth

rred the water up as if she were trying to scare fish toward the others, who waited quietly. Then they

her; and loons like society very much, if they can select their own friends and have their parties in a wilderness lake. But gay and happy as they had been at their merrym

er Loon had much the same appearance; for, of course, birds that live in the water cannot shed their feathers as many at a time as Corbie could, but must change their feather-wear gradually,

which the little Olair had been bumped while he was napping, months ago, was glazed over with a sparkling crust. The water where Gavia and F

I cannot explain. I do not understand it well enough. I never felt quite sure why Peter Piper left the shore where the cardinal flowers glowed, for far Brazil. All I can tell you about

a million years. You will think-as who would not?-that a loon is a wonderful gift that Nature has brought down throug

us to know. It makes us a bit timid to think about all this, as it does the minister of Immer Lake, who sits before

a, ho! O, h