His heart swelled big with prideful possession. What a
wonderful accomplishment! What a fine boy! How careful he must be to help
and to guide him.
Again the bird across the swamp sang and the one in sight turned in that
direction. Then began a duet that was a marvellous experience. The far
bird called. Malcolm answered. Soon they heard a reply. Mr. Minturn saw
the boy beckoning him, and crept to his side.
"It's a female," whispered Malcolm. "I'm going to sing the male notes and
calls, and try to toll her. You follow, but don't get too close and scare
her."
The father could see the tense poise of Malcolm, stepping lightly,
avoiding the open, stooping beneath branches, hiding in bushes, making his
way onward, at every complete ambush sending forth those wonderful notes.
At each repetition it seemed to the father that the song grew softer, more
pleading, of fuller intonation; and then his heart almost stopped, for he
began to realize that each answer to the boy's call was closer than the
one before.
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