freckles-第7部分

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lifted　his　head　and　bellowed　in　answer。　　〃FIN'　DOUT！　　FIN'　DOUT！〃



〃Whawhat's　that？〃　stammered　Freckles；　almost　too　much　bewildered

to　speak。　　〃II　know　you　are　only　a　bullfrog；　but；　be　jabbers；　that

sounded　mightily　like　speech。　　Wouldn't　you　please　to　be　saying　it　over？〃



The　bullfrog　cuddled　contentedly　in　the　ooze。　　Then　suddenly　he

lifted　his　voice；　and；　as　an　imperative　drumbeat；　rolled　it　again：

〃FIN'　DOUT！　　FIN'　DOUT！　　FIN　DOUT！〃



Freckles　had　the　answer。　　Something　seemed　to　snap　in　his　brain。

There　was　a　wavering　flame　before　his　eyes。　　Then　his　mind　cleared。　

His　head　lifted　in　a　new　poise；　his　shoulders　squared；　while　his

spine　straightened。　　The　agony　was　over。　　His　soul　floated　free。　

Freckles　came　into　his　birthright。



〃Before　God；　I　will！〃　He　uttered　the　oath　so　impressively　that　the

recording　angel　never　winced　as　he　posted　it　in　the　prayer　column。



Freckles　set　his　hat　over　the　top　of　one　of　the　locust　posts　used

between　trees　to　hold　up　the　wire　while　he　fastened　the　feather

securely　in　the　band。　　Then　he　started　down　the　line；　talking　to

himself　as　men　who　have　worked　long　alone　always　fall　into　the

habit　of　doing。



〃What　a　fool　I　have　been！〃　he　muttered。　　〃Of　course　that's　what　I

have　to　do！　　There　wouldn't　likely　anybody　be　doing　it　for　me。　

Of　course　I　can！　　What　am　I　a　man　for？　　If　I　was　a　four…footed　thing

of　the　swamp；　maybe　I　couldn't；　but　a　man　can　do　anything　if　he's

the　grit　to　work　hard　enough　and　stick　at　it；　Mr。　McLean　is　always

saying；　and　here's　the　way　I　am　to　do　it。　　He　said；　too；　that　there

were　people　that　knew　everything　in　the　swamp。　　Of　course　they　have

written　books！　　The　thing　for　me　to　be　doing　is　to　quit　moping　and　be

buying　some。　　Never　bought　a　book　in　me　life；　or　anything　else　of　much

account；　for　that　matter。　　Oh；　ain't　I　glad　I　didn't　waste　me　money！　

I'll　surely　be　having　enough　to　get　a　few。　　Let　me　see。〃



Freckles　sat　on　a　log；　took　his　pencil　and　account…book；　and

figured　on　a　back　page。　　He　had　walked　the　timber…line　ten　months。　

His　pay　was　thirty　dollars　a　month；　and　his　board　cost　him　eight。　

That　left　twenty…two　dollars　a　month；　and　his　clothing　had　cost　him

very　little。　　At　the　least　he　had　two　hundred　dollars　in　the　bank。　

He　drew　a　deep　breath　and　smiled　at　the　sky　with　satisfaction。



〃I'll　be　having　a　book　about　all　the　birds；　trees；　flowers；

butterflies；　andYes；　by　gummy！　　I'll　be　having　one　about　the

frogsif　it　takes　every　cent　I　have；〃　he　promised　himself。



He　put　away　the　account…book；　that　was　his　most　cherished

possession；　caught　up　his　stick；　and　started　down　the　line。　

The　even　tap；　tap；　and　the　cheery；　gladsome　whistle　carried

far　ahead　of　him　the　message　that　Freckles　was　himself　again。



He　fell　into　a　rapid　pace；　for　he　had　lost　time　that　morning；　when

he　rounded　the　last　curve　he　was　almost　running。　　There　was　a　chance

that　the　Boss　might　be　there　for　his　weekly　report。



Then；　wavering；　flickering；　darting　here　and　there　over　the　sweet

marsh…grass；　came　a　large　black　shadow；　sweeping　so　closely　before

him　that　for　the　second　time　that　morning　Freckles　dodged　and

sprang　back。　　He　had　seen　some　owls　and　hawks　of　the　swamp　that　he

thought　might　be　classed　as　large　birds；　but　never　anything　like

this；　for　six　feet　it　spread　its　big；　shining　wings。　　Its　strong

feet　could　be　seen　drawn　among　its　feathers。　　The　sun　glinted　on　its

sharp；　hooked　beak。　　Its　eyes　glowed；　caught　the　light；　and　seemed

able　to　pierce　the　ground　at　his　feet。　　It　cared　no　more　for

Freckles　than　if　he　had　not　been　there；　for　it　perched　on　a　low

tree；　while　a　second　later　it　awkwardly　hopped　to　the　trunk　of　a

lightning…riven　elm；　turned　its　back；　and　began　searching　the　blue。



Freckles　looked　just　in　time　to　see　a　second　shadow　sweep　the　grass；

and　another　bird；　a　trifle　smaller　and　not　quite　so　brilliant

in　the　light；　slowly　sailed　down　to　perch　beside　the　first。　

Evidently　they　were　mates；　for　with　a　queer；　rolling　hop　the

first…comer　shivered　his　bronze　wings；　sidled　to　the　new　arrival；

and　gave　her　a　silly　little　peck　on　her　wing。　　Then　he　coquettishly

drew　away　and　ogled　her。　　He　lifted　his　head；　waddled　from　her　a　few

steps；　awkwardly　ambled　back；　and　gave　her　such　a　simple　sort　of

kiss　on　her　beak　that　Freckles　burst　into　a　laugh；　but　clapped　his

hand　over　his　mouth　to　stifle　the　sound。



The　lover　ducked　and　side…stepped　a　few　feet。　　He　spread　his　wings

and　slowly　and　softly　waved　them　precisely　as　if　he　were　fanning

his　charmer；　which　was　indeed　the　result　he　accomplished。　　Then　a

wave　of　uncontrollable　tenderness　moved　him　so　he　hobbled　to　his

bombardment　once　more。　　He　faced　her　squarely　this　time；　and　turned

his　head　from　side　to　side　with　queer　little　jerks　and

indiscriminate　peckings　at　her　wings　and　head；　and　smirkings　that

really　should　have　been　irresistible。　　She　yawned　and　shuffled　away

indifferently。　　Freckles　reached　up；　pulled　the　quill　from　his　hat；

and　looking　from　it　to　the　birds；　nodded　in　settled　conviction。



〃So　you're　me　black　angels；　ye　spalpeens！　　No　wonder　you　didn't

get　in！　　But　I'll　back　you　to　come　closer　it　than　any　other　birds

ever　did。　　You　fly　higher　than　I　can　see。　　Have　you　picked　the

Limberlost　for　a　good　thing　and　come　to　try　it？　　Well；　you　can　be

me　chickens　if　you　want　to；　but　I'm　blest　if　you　ain't　cool　for

new　ones。　　Why　don't　you　take　this　stick　for　a　gun　and　go　skinning

a　mile？〃



Freckles　broke　into　an　unrestrained　laugh；　for　the　bird…lover　was

keen　about　his　courting；　while　evidently　his　mate　was　diffident。　

When　he　approached　too　boisterously；　she　relieved　him　of　a　goodly

tuft　of　feathers　and　sent　him　backward　in　a　series　of　squirmy

little　jumps　that　gave　the　boy　an　idea　of　what　had　happened　up…sky

to　send　the　falling　feather　across　his　pathway。



〃Score　one　for　the　lady！　　I'll　be　umpiring　this；〃　volunteered　Freckles。



With　a　ravishing　swagger；　half…lifted　wings；　and　deep；　guttural

hissing；　the　lover　approached　again。　　He　suddenly　lifted　his　body；

but　she　coolly　rocked　forward　on　the　limb；　glided　gracefully

beneath　him；　and　slowly　sailed　into　the　Limberlost。　　He　recovered

himself　and　gazed　after　her　in　astonishment。



Freckles　hurried　down　the　trail；　shaking　with　laughter。　　When　he

neared　the　path　to　the　clearing　and　saw　the　Boss　sitting　motionless

on　the　mare　that　was　the　pride　of　his　heart；　the　boy　broke　into　a　run。



〃Oh；　Mr。　McLean！〃　he　cried。　　〃I　hope　I　haven't　kept　you　waiting　very

long！　　And　the　sun　is　getting　hot！　　I　have　been　so　slow　this　morning！　

I　could　have　gone　faster；　only　there　were　that　many　things　to　keep

me；　and　I　didn't　know　you　would　be　here。　　I'll　hurry　after　this。　

I've　never　had　to　be　giving　excuses　before。　　The　line　wasn't　down；

and　there　wasn't　a　sign　of　trouble；　it　was　other　things　that　were

making　me　late。〃



McLean；　smiling　on　the　boy；　immediately　noticed　the　difference

in　him。　　This　flushed；　panting；　talkative　lad　was　not　the　same

creature　who　had　sought　him　in　despair　and　bitterness。　　He　watched

in　wonder　as　Freckles　mopped　the　perspiration　from　his　forehead　and

began　to　laugh。　　Then；　forgetting　all　his　customary　reserve　with

the　Boss；　the　pent…up　boyishness　in　the　lad　broke　forth。　　With　an

eloquence　of　which　he　never　dreamed　he　told　his　story。　　He　talked

with　such　enthusiasm　that　McLean　never　took　his　eyes　from　his　face

or　shifted　in　the　saddle　until　he　described　the　strange　bird…lover；

and　then　the　Boss　suddenly　bent　over　the　pommel　and　laughed　with

the　boy。



Freckles　decorated　his　story　with　keen　appreciation　and　rare

touches　of　Irish　wit　and　drollery　that　made　it　most　interesting　as

well　as　very　funny。　　It　was　a　first　attempt　at　descriptive

narration。　　With　an　inborn　gift　for　striking　the　vital　point；　a

naturalist's　dawning　enthusiasm　for　the　wonders　of　the　Limberlost；

and　the　welling　joy　of　his　newly　found　happiness；　he　made　McLean

see　the　struggles　of　the　moth　and　its　freshly　painted　wings；　the

dainty；　brilliant　bird…mates　of　different　colors；　the　feather

sliding　through　the　clear　air；　the　palpitant　throat　and　batting

eyes　of　the　frog；　while　his　version　of　the　big　bird's　courtship　won

for　the　Boss　the　best　laugh　he　had　enjoyed　for　years。



〃They're　in　the　middle　of　a　swamp　now〃　said　Freckles。　　〃Do　you

suppose　there　is　any　chance　of　them　staying　with　me　chickens？　

If　they　do；　they'll　be　about　the　queerest　I　have；　but　I　tell　you；　sir；

I　am　finding　some　plum　good　ones。　　There's　a　new　kind　over　at　the

mouth　of　the　creek　that　uses　its　wings　like　feet　and　walks　on　all

fours。　　It　travels　like　a　thrashing　machine。　　There's　another；　tall

as　me　waist；　with　a　bill　a　foot　long；　a　neck　near　two；　not　the

thickness　of　me　wrist　and　an　elegant　color。　　He's　some　blue　and

gray；　touched　up　with　black；　white；　and　brown。　　The　voice　of　him　is

such　that　if　he'd　be　going　up　and　standing　beside　a　tree　and　crying

at　it　a　few　times　he　could　be　sawing　it　square　off。　　I　don't　know

but　it　would　be　a　good　idea　to　try　him　on　the　gang；　sir。〃



McLean　laughed。　　〃Those　must　be　blue　herons；　Freckles；〃　he　said。

〃And　it　doesn't　seem　possible；　but　your　description　of　the　big

black　birds　sounds　like　genuine　black　vultures。　　They　are　common

enough　in　the　South。　　I've　seen　them　numerous　around　the　lumber

camps　of　Georgia；　but　I　never　before　heard　of　any　this　far　north。

They　must　be　strays。　　You　have　described　perfectly　our　nearest

equivalent　to　a　branch　of　these　birds　called　in　Europe　Pharaoh's

Chickens；　but　if　they　are　coming　to　the　Limberlost　they　will　have

to　drop　Pharaoh　and　become　Freckles'　Chickens；　like　the　remainder　of

the　birds；　won't　they？　　Or　are　they　too　odd　and　ugly　to　interest　you？〃



〃Oh；　not　at　all；　at　all！〃　cried　Freckles；　bursting　into　pure　brogue

in　his　haste。　　〃I　don't　know　as　I'd　be　calling　them　exactly　pretty；

and　they　do　move　like　a　rocking…horse　loping；　but　they　are　so　big

and　fearless。　　They　have　a　fine　color　for　bla