rust forward, and the feathers of her throat and breast
glistening in the glare of the headlight, white as the snow that was
falling around her.

All this Mahng saw. What he did not see, because his eyes were dazzled,
was a boat in the shadow behind the light, and a rifle-barrel pointing
straight at his wife's breast. There was a blinding flash, a sharp,
crashing report, and a cloud of smoke; and Mahng dived as quick as a
wink. But his wife would never dive again. The bullet had gone tearing
through her body, and she lay stretched out on the water, perfectly
motionless, and apparently dead. And then, just as Mahng came to the
surface a hundred yards away, and just as my partner put out his hand to
pick her up, she lifted her head and gave a last wild cry. Mahng heard
it and answered, but he was too far away to see what happened. He dared
not return till the light had disappeared, and by that time she was
gone. She had straggled violently for a moment, and had struck savagely
at the hunter's hand, and then she had as suddenly collapsed, the water
turned red, and her eyes closed forever. Did you know that among all
God's creatures the birds are the only ones whose eyes close naturally
in death? Even among men it is not so, for when our friends die we lay
our hands reverently upon their faces, and weight their stiff lids with
gold. But for the bird, Nature herself performs the last kindly office,
and as the light fades out from the empty windows of the soul, the
curtain falls of its own accord.

[Illustration: "_She herself was a rarely beautiful sight._"]

During the next two or three days Mahng's voice was frequently to be
heard, apparently calling his wife. Sometimes it was a mournful,
long-drawn cry--"Hoo-WOOOO-ooo"--that might have been heard a mile
away--a cry that seemed the very essence of loneliness, and that went
right down where you lived and made you feel like a murderer. And
sometimes he broke into a wild peal of laughter, as if he hoped that
that might better serve to call her back to him.

His children had gone south some time before. They had seemed anxious to
see the world. Perhaps, too, they had dreaded the approach of colder
weather more than the older birds, who had become somewhat seasoned by
previous autumns. Anyhow, they had taken the long trail toward the Gulf
of Mexico, and now that his wife was gone Mahng was entirely alone. At
last he seemed to make up his mind that he might as well follow the