New guards were patrolling the trail. Freckles was roughly laying
off the swamp in sections and searching for marked trees. In that time
he had found one deeply chipped and the chip cunningly replaced and
tacked in. It promised to be quite rare, so he was jubilant. He also
found so many subjects for the Bird Woman that her coming was of almost
daily occurrence, and the hours he spent with her and the Angel were
nothing less than golden.
The Limberlost was now arrayed as the Queen of Sheba in all her glory.
The first frosts of autumn had bejewelled her crown in flashing topaz,
ruby, and emerald. Around her feet trailed the purple of her garments,
while in her hand was her golden scepter. Everything was at full tide.
It seemed as if nothing could grow lovelier, and it was all standing
still a few weeks, waiting coming destruction.
The swamp was palpitant with life. Every pair of birds that had flocked
to it in the spring was now multiplied by from two to ten. The young
were tame from Freckles' tri-parenthood, and so plump and sleek that
they were quite as beautiful as their elders, even if in many cases
they lacked their brilliant plumage.
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