The Adventures of Poor Mrs Quack | Page 4

and have places
where we can hide from them, but it is our wits against their wits, and it
is our own fault if we get caught. That is perfectly fair, so we don't
mind that. It is only men who are not fair. They don't know what
fairness is."
Peter nodded that he understood, and Mrs. Quack went on. "Last
summer Mr. Quack and I had our nest on the dearest little island, and
no one found it. First we had twelve eggs, and then twelve of the
dearest babies you ever saw." "Maybe," said Peter doubtfully, thinking
of his own babies.
"They grew so fast that by the time the cold weather came, they were as
big as their father and mother," continued Mrs. Quack. "And they were
smart, too. They had learned how to take care of themselves just as well
as I could. I certainly was proud of that family. But now I don't know
where one of them is."
Mrs. Quack suddenly choked up with grief, and Peter Rabbit politely
turned his head away.

IV
MRS. QUACK CONTINUES HER STORY
When Mrs. Quack told of her twelve children and how she didn't know
where one of them was, Peter Rabbit and Jerry Muskrat knew just how

badly she was feeling, and they turned their heads away and pretended
that they didn't see her tears. In a few minutes she bravely went on with
her story.
"When Jack Frost came and we knew it was time to begin the long
journey, Mr. Quack and myself and our twelve children joined with
some other Duck families, and with Mr. Quack in the lead, we started
for our winter home, which really isn't a home but just a place to stay.
For a while we had nothing much to fear. We would fly by day and at
night rest in some quiet lake or pond or on some river, with the Great
Woods all about us or sometimes great marshes. Perhaps you don't
know what marshes are. If the Green Meadows here had little streams
of water running every which way through them, and the ground was
all soft and muddy and full of water, and the grass grew tall, they
would be marshes."
Jerry Muskrat's eyes sparkled. "I would like a place like that!" he
exclaimed.
"You certainly would," replied Mrs. Quack. "We always find lots of
your relatives in such places."
"Marshes must be something like swamps," ventured Peter Rabbit, who
had been thinking the matter over.
"Very much the same, only with grass and rushes in place of trees and
bushes," replied Mrs. Quack. "There is plenty to eat and the loveliest
hiding-places. In some of these we stayed days at a time. In fact, we
stayed until Jack Frost came to drive us out. Then as we flew, we began
to see the homes of these terrible two-legged creatures called men, and
from that time on we never knew a minute of peace, excepting when
we were flying high in the air or far out over the water. If we could
have just kept flying all the time or never had to go near the shore, we
would have been all right. But we had to eat."
"Of course," said Peter. "Everybody has to eat."
"And we had to rest," said Mrs. Quack.

"Certainly," said Peter. "Everybody has to do that."
"And to eat we had to go in close to shore where the water was not at
all deep, because it is only in such places that we can get food,"
continued Mrs. Quack. "It takes a lot of strength to fly as we fly, and
strength requires plenty of food. Mr. Quack knew all the best
feeding-places, for he had made the long journey several times, so
every day he would lead the way to one of these. He always chose the
wildest and most lonely looking places he could find, as far as possible
from the homes of men, but even then he was never careless. He would
lead us around back and forth over the place he had chosen, and we
would all look with all our might for signs of danger. If we saw none,
we would drop down a little nearer and a little nearer. But with all our
watchfulness, we never could be sure, absolutely sure, that all was safe.
Sometimes those terrible two-legged creatures would be hiding in the
very middle of the wildest, most lonely looking marshes. They would
be covered with grass so that we couldn't see them. Then, as we flew
over them, would come the bang, bang, bang, bang of terrible guns, and
always some of our flock would drop. We would have to leave them
behind, for we knew if we wanted