the swamp looking as if she's been through a fire, a flood, and a
famine, if that's what she goes through day after day. But if you
think we got it, why, it's worth all it took, and I'm glad as ever
you are, sure!"
They put the holders in the case, carefully closed the camera, set
it in also, and carried it to the road.
Then Freckles exulted.
"Now, let's be telling the Bird Woman about it!" he shouted, wildly
dancing and swinging his hat.
"We got it! We got it! I bet a farm we got it!"
Hand in hand they ran to the north end of the swamp, yelling "We
got it!" like young Comanches, and never gave a thought to what
they might do until a big blue-gray bird, with long neck and
trailing legs, arose on flapping wings and sailed over the Limberlost.
The Angel became white to the lips and gripped Freckles with
both hands. He gulped with mortification and turned his back.
To
frighten her subject away carelessly! It was the head crime in
the Bird Woman's
category. She
extended her hands as she arose,
baked, blistered, and dripping, and exclaimed: "Bless you, my
children! Bless you!" And it truly sounded as if she meant it.
"Why, why----" stammered the bewildered Angel.
Freckles
hurried into the breach.
"You must be for blaming it every bit on me. I was thinking we got
Little Chicken's picture real good. I was so drunk with the joy of
it I lost all me senses and, `Let's run tell the Bird Woman,' says I.
Like a fool I was for
running, and I sort of dragged the Angel along."
"Oh Freckles!" expostulated the Angel. "Are you loony? Of course,
it was all my fault! I've been with her hundreds of times. I knew
perfectly well that I wasn't to let anything--NOT ANYTHING--scare
her bird away! I was so crazy I forgot. The blame is all mine, and
she'll never
forgive me."
"She will, too!" cried Freckles. "Wasn't you for telling me that
very first day that when people scared her birds away she just
killed them! It's all me
foolishness, and I'll never
forgive meself!"
The Bird Woman plunged into the swale at the mouth of Sleepy Snake
Creek, and came wading toward them, with a couple of cameras and
dripping tripods.
"If you will permit me a word, my infants," she said, "I will
explain to you that I have had three shots at that fellow."
The Angel heaved a deep sigh of
relief, and Freckles' face cleared
a little.
"Two of them," continued the Bird Woman, "in the rushes--one
facing, crest lowered; one light on back, crest flared; and the
last on wing, when you came up. I simply had been praying for
something to make him arise from that side, so that he would fly
toward the camera, for he had waded around until in my position I
couldn't do it myself. See? Behold in yourselves the answer to the
prayers of the long-suffering!"
Freckles took a step toward her.
"Are you really meaning that?" he asked wonderingly. "Only think,
Angel, we did the right thing! She won't lose her picture through
the
carelessness of us, when she's waited and soaked nearly two hours.
She's not angry with us!"
"Never was in a sweeter
temper in my life," said the Bird Woman,
busily cleaning and packing the cameras.
Freckles removed his hat and
solemnly held out his hand. With equal
solemnity the Angel grasped it. The Bird Woman laughed alone, for
to them the situation had been too serious to develop any of the
elements of fun.
Then they loaded the
carriage, and the Bird Woman and the Angel
started for their homes. It had been a difficult time for all of
them, so they were very tired, but they were
joyful. Freckles was
so happy it seemed to him that life could hold little more. As the
Bird Woman was ready to drive away he laid his hand on the lines
and looked into her face.
"Do you suppose we got it?" he asked, so
eagerly that she would
have given much to be able to say yes with conviction.
"Why, my dear, I don't know," she said. "I've no way to judge.
If you made the
exposure just before you came to me, there was yet
a fine light. If you waited until Little Chicken was close the
entrance, you should have something good, even if you didn't catch
just the
fleeting expression for which you hoped. Of course, I
can't say surely, but I think there is every reason to believe that
you have it all right. I will develop the plate tonight, make you
a proof from it early in the morning, and bring it when we come.
It's only a question of a day or two now until the gang arrives.
I want to work in all the studies I can before that time, for they
are bound to
disturb the birds. Mr. McLean will need you then, and
I scarcely see how we are to do without you."
Moved by an
impulse she never afterward regretted, she bent and
laid her lips on Freckles'
forehead, kissing him
gently and
thanking him for his many kindnesses to her in her loved work.
Freckles started away so happy that he felt inclined to keep
watching behind to see if the trail were not curling up and rolling
down the line after him.
CHAPTER XVI
Wherein the Angel Locates a Rare Tree and Dines with the Gang
From afar Freckles saw them coming. The Angel was
standing, waving
her hat. He
sprang on his wheel and raced, jolting and pounding,
down the corduroy to meet them. The Bird Woman stopped the horse
and the Angel gave him the bit of print paper. Freckles leaned the
wheel against a tree and took the proof with eager fingers.
He never before had seen a study from any of his chickens.
He stood staring. When he turned his face toward them it was
transfigured with delight.
"You see!" he exclaimed, and began gazing again. "Oh, me Little
Chicken!" he cried. "Oh me ilegant Little Chicken! I'd be giving
all me money in the bank for you!"
Then he thought of the Angel's muff and Mrs. Duncan's hat, and
added, "or at least, all but what I'm needing bad for something else.
Would you mind stopping at the cabin a minute and showing this
to Mother Duncan?" he asked.
"Give me that little book in your pocket," said the Bird Woman.
She folded the outer edges of the proof so that it would fit into
the book, explaining as she did so its perishable nature in
that state. Freckles went hurrying ahead, and they arrived in time
to see Mrs. Duncan gazing as if awestruck, and to hear her bewildered
"Weel I be drawed on!"
Freckles and the Angel helped the Bird Woman to establish herself
for a long day at the mouth of Sleepy Snake Creek. Then she sent
them away and waited what luck would bring to her.
"Now, what shall we do?" inquired the Angel, who was a
bundle of
nerves and energy.
"Would you like to go to me room awhile?" asked Freckles.
"If you don't care to very much, I'd rather not," said the Angel.
"I'll tell you. Let's go help Mrs. Duncan with dinner and play with
the baby. I love a nice, clean baby."
They started toward the cabin. Every few minutes they stopped to
investigate something or to
chatter over some natural history wonder.
The Angel had quick eyes; she seemed to see everything, but Freckles'
were even quicker; for life itself had depended on their sharpness
ever since the
beginning of his work at the swamp. They saw it at
the same time.
"Someone has been making a flagpole," said the Angel,
running the
toe of her shoe around the stump,
evidently made that season.
"Freckles, what would anyone cut a tree as small as that for?"
"I don't know," said Freckles.
"Well, but I want to know!" said the Angel. "No one came away here
and cut it for fun. They've taken it away. Let's go back and see if
we can see it
anywhere around there."
She turned, retraced her footsteps, and began
eagerly searching.
Freckles did the same.
"There it is!" he exclaimed at last, "leaning against the trunk of
that big maple."
"Yes, and leaning there has killed a patch of dried bark," said
the Angel. "See how dried it appears?"
Freckles stared at her.
"Angel!" he shouted, "I bet you it's a marked tree!"
"Course it is!" cried the Angel. "No one would cut that
sapling and
carry it away there and lean it up for nothing. I'll tell you! This
is one of Jack's marked trees. He's climbed up there above anyone's
head, peeled the bark, and cut into the grain enough to be sure.
Then he's laid the bark back and fastened it with that pole to mark it.
You see, there're a lot of other big maples close around it. Can you
climb to that place?"
"Yes," said Freckles; "if I take off my wading-boots I can."
"Then take them off," said the Angel, "and do hurry! Can't you see
that I am almost crazy to know if this tree is a marked one?"
When they pushed the
sapling over, a piece of bark as big as the
crown of Freckles' hat fell away.
"I believe it looks kind of nubby," encouraged the Angel, backing
away, with her face all screwed into a twist in an effort to
intensify her vision.
Freckles reached the
opening, then slid rapidly to the ground.
He was almost
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breathless while his eyes were flashing.
"The bark's been cut clean with a knife, the sap scraped away, and
a big chip taken out deep. The trunk is the twistiest thing you
ever saw. It's full of eyes as a bird is of feathers!"
The Angel was dancing and shaking his hand.
"Oh, Freckles," she cried, "I'm so
delighted that you found it!"
"But I didn't," said the astonished Freckles. "That tree isn't my
find; it's yours. I forgot it and was going on; you wouldn't give
up, and kept talking about it, and turned back. You found it!"
"You'd best be looking after your
reputation for truth and
veracity," said the Angel. "You know you saw that
sapling first!"
"Yes, after you took me back and set me looking for it," scoffed Freckles.
The clear, ringing echo of
strongly swung axes came crashing
through the Limberlost.
"'Tis the gang!" shouted Freckles. "They're
clearing a place to
make the camp. Let's go help!"
"Hadn't we better mark that tree again?" cautioned the Angel.
"It's away in here. There's such a lot of them, and all so
much alike. We'd feel good and green to find it and then lose it."
Freckles lifted the
sapling to
replace it, but the Angel motioned
him away.
"Use your hatchet," she said. "I
predict this is the most valuable
tree in the swamp. You found it. I'm going to play that you're
my
knight. Now, you nail my colors on it."
She reached up, and pulling a blue bow from her hair, untied and
doubled it against the tree. Freckles turned his eyes from her and
managed the
fastening with shaking fingers. The Angel had called
him her
knight! Dear Lord, how he loved her! She must not see his
face, or surely her quick eyes would read what he was fighting to hide.
He did not dare lay his lips on that
ribbon then, but that night
he would return to it. When they had gone a little distance,
they both looked back, and the morning
breeze set the bit of blue
waving them a farewell.
They walked at a rapid pace.
"I am sorry about scaring the birds," said the Angel, "but it's
almost time for them to go anyway. I feel
dreadfully over having
the swamp ruined, but isn't it a delight to hear the good, honest
ring of those axes, instead of straining your ears for stealthy
sounds? Isn't it fine to go
openly and
freely, with nothing worse
than a snake or a poison-vine to fear?"
"Ah!" said Freckles, with a long
breath, "it's better than you can
dream, Angel. Nobody will ever be guessing some of the things I've
been through
trying to keep me promise to the Boss, and to hold out
until this day. That it's come with only one fresh stump, and the
log from that saved, and this new tree to report, isn't it grand?
Maybe Mr. McLean will be forgetting that stump when he sees this
tree, Angel!"