Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1911-09-06

Hsf. tue poor uLtle DADles
could only lie still and wait for their
parents to feed them. But, oh, how
hungry they were! When their moth
er came to the nest With fish or a
frog, three yawning throats awaited
her, and she had to decide to which
she would give the morsel. 1t seemed
impossible that, from such poor be-
ginnings anything beautiful could
grow. But Mother Nature had given
them wonderful appetites, and in such
q few weeks the frogs and the fish
and the snails would be changed to
z feathers and bone and flesh. The
weak little babies would get strong
and able to walk and fly and to
catch fish for themselves. For those
few weeks the mother and father bird
must work early and late to bring food
for their babies.
Away up in the air the mother
egret came flying to her nest. Her
legs were held close to her body, her
long neck was folded over itself and
lay fiat on her back, her snowy plumes
foated in the air. She was as beauti-
full as white-robed angel. Straight
she came to the nest where three vel
low Threats were opened wide and
three little birds called welcome.
Perhaps she was already trying to
decide to which baby she would give
the green frog in her beak. Up
tipped her wings, out went her neck
and her feet were thrust down to take
hold Of the edge Of the nest. Her
lovely plumes waved in the air. She
was just reaching out to drop the
green frog down the throat Of,
when bang! went q gun. A terrible
pain in her breast. dizzy feeling
and she fell, fell, fell to the ground.
Two canoes slowly pushed their way
through the mass of lily pads that
marked the slough leading from the
Glades to the head of the river. A.
man stood in the stern OF each and
with long pole forced the heavy
craft ahead. The one in the forward
canoe was not an especially heroic
figure. Face, neck and hands were
tanned to the copper color Of the
Seminole. His feet were bare, the
brim Of his old straw hat was ragged
and one side hung down until 1t hid
the side Of his face. Across the heap
Of camping supplies, Indian specimens
and tins of food, sprawled man
burned even darker than his com.
panion. He was stripped to a sleeve.
less undershirt and q pair of khaki
trousers. A small canvas hat that
once had been white rested upon his
head and completed the picture OF
disreputableness. His face was re-
deemed by pair of'gold-rimmed spec.
tacles. Not handsome, by any stand.
ard, but alert, receptive and thought
full. In word, a German student
scientist. To supply a vacancy in the
collection Of representative aboriginal
tribes, this curator had invaded the
Big Cypress swamp and explored the
Everglades of Florida to their inner
most recesses. He had followed the
Seminoles to their camps and beguiled
from them costumes, implements and
ornaments. He had risked his life
that the vacant niche in his museum
might be filled.
Which way now, Frank?" he asked
the man with the pole.
Through the crookedest creek you
ever saw. lOver logs and under trees
until you'all'd wish we hadn't come"
The canoe turned toward the north.
crossed a little circular bay and en-
tered patch Of wods. There was no
sign Of creek or passageway from
the bay. Trees were as thick and
hung as low as elsewhere on the
green-encompassed shore. The men
lay on the bottom Of the canoe and
pulled themselves forward by the
branches overhead. Bump! went the
canoe on q hidden log. Both men