l adventure of my quest, and at
that time it seemed a serious one, though now I would regard it as of very
little moment. Suddenly there came the noise of snipping cords, the feeling
of jar and upheaval, and before I could turn more than half-way around for
purposes of observation, the entire feminine Bird family in their temporary
crate abode slid down into the dust of the road with a great crash. I held
my breath while, with a jolt and a bounce and a squeak of the heavy old
springs, Uncle Cradd brought the ancestral family coach to a halt about ten
feet away from the wreck, which was a melee of broken timber, squeaking
voices, and flapping wings. As soon as I recovered from the shock I sprang
from my cushions beside Mr. G. Bird, who was fairly yelling clucks of
command at this family-to-be, and ran to their assistance. Now, I am very
long and fleet of limb, but those white Leghorn ladies were too swift for
me, and before I reached the wreck, they had all ten disentangled
themselves from the crushed timbers and had literally taken to the woods,
through which the Riverfield ribbon was at that moment winding itself.
Clucking and chuckling, they concealed themselves in an undergrowth of
coral-strung buck bushes, little scrub cedars, and dried oak leaves, and I
could hear them holding a council of war that sounded as if they were to
depart forever to parts unknown. In a twinkling of an eye I saw my future
fortune literally take wings, and in my extremity I cried aloud.

"Oh, call them all back, Mr. Golden Bird," I pleaded.

"Now, Nancy, that is always what I said about hens. They are such pesky
womanish things that it's beneath the dignity of a man to bother with 'em.
I haven't had one on the place for twenty years. We'll just turn this
rooster loose with them and we can go on home in peace," said Uncle Cradd
as he peered around the side of the coach while father's mild face appeared
on the other side. As he spoke, he reached back and released my Golden Bird
from his crate and sent him flying out into the woods in the direction of
his family.

"Oh, they are the only things in the world that stand between me and
starvation," I wailed, though not loud enough for either father or Uncle
Cradd to hear. "Please, please, Golden Bird, come back and bring the others
with you," I pleaded as I held out my hand to the proud white Sultan, who
had paused by the roadside on his way to his family and was now turning
bright eyes in the di