Paddling under Palmettos — page 91: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

84 Paddling Under Palmettos. The wretched sand-hill crane fell and Archie gath- ered him in. “T don’t call that bird a crane,’ said Dick, when the commotion had ceased, “though he goes by such a name. He don't live on frogs and fish like the rest of the tribe, but lays on to grain most of the time. That’s what makes his flesh so good. That’s why we hear his cry back from the water in the wood tangle. To me he ts a plover, or the prince of the curlew tribe. I’m only astonished to find him here.”’ They found no mate to him. After shooting a few more birds to obtain the feathers and skins, among which were one scarlet ibis, a white ibis, and an egret, they thought about returning. This was easier said than done, and when they had floundered about for some time even honest Dick was forced to admit the solemn truth. They were lost! Pa Ordinarily this might mean nothing, but a night in this swamp was anything but a pleasure to antici- pate. Te Dick remained cool, however, for he wished to Gomicbooks Go