They
ducked, dodged, and ambled around him, over logs and bushes, and not
even a near approach would drive them to flight.
For two weeks he had found them circling over the Limberlost regularly,
but one morning the female was missing and only the big black chicken
hung sentinel above the swamp. His mate did not reappear in the
following days, and Freckles grew very anxious. He spoke of it to Mrs.
Duncan, and she quieted his fears by raising a delightful hope in their
stead.
"Why, Freckles, if it's the hen-bird ye are missing, it's ten to one
she's safe," she said. "She's laid, and is setting, ye silly! Watch him
and mark whaur he lichts. Then follow and find the nest. Some Sabbath
we'll all gang see it."
Accepting this theory, Freckles began searching for the nest. Because
these "chickens" were large, as the hawks, he looked among the treetops
until he almost sprained the back of his neck. He had half the crow and
hawk nests in the swamp located. He searched for this nest instead of
collecting subjects for his case. He found the pair the middle of one
forenoon on the elm where he had watched their love-making.
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