Imitating every caution,
stepping in the boy's tracks, and keeping a few rods behind, followed his
father. He had rolled his sleeves to the elbow, left his shirt open at the
throat, while for weeks the joy of wind and weather on his bared head had
been his, so that as he silently followed his son he made an impressive
figure. At a certain point Malcolm stopped, motioning his father to come
to him.
"Now this is as far as I've gone yet," he whispered. "You stay here, and
we'll wait till the music begins. If I can do it as well as I have for
three nights, and get an answer, I'm going to try to call the Hermit bird
I sing with. If a hen answers, I'll do the male notes, and try to coax her
where you can see. If a male sings, I'll do his song once or twice to show
you how close I can come, and then I'll do the hen's call note, and see if
I can coax him out for you. If I creep ahead, you keep covered as much as
you can and follow; but stay as far as that big tree behind me, and don't
for your life move or make a noise when I'm still.
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