The Rudder Grangers Abroad | Page 9

to sail to the opposite side of the river to
look for a little post-office, the existence of which the boatman had not
mentioned until it had been determined to make this stoppage here.
As we approached the island we saw hundreds of pelicans, some flying
about, some sitting on trunks and branches of dead trees, and some
waddling about on the shore.
"You might as well shoot two of them," said Euphemia, "and then we
will select the better one to take to Rudder Grange."
The island was very boggy and muddy, and, before I had found a good
place to land, and had taken up the gun from the bow of the boat, every
pelican in sight took wing and flew away. I stood up and fired both
barrels at the retreating flock. They swerved and flew oceanward, but
not one of them fell. I helped Euphemia on shore, and then, gun in hand,

I made my way as well as I could to the other end of the island. There
might be some deaf old fellows left who had not made up their minds
to fly. The ground was very muddy, and drift-wood and under-brush
obstructed my way. Still, I pressed on, and went nearly half around the
island, finding, however, not a single pelican.
Soon I heard Euphemia's voice, calling loud. She seemed to be about
the centre of the island, and I ran toward her.
"I've got one!" I heard her cry, before I came in sight of her. She was
sitting at the root of a crooked, dead tree. In front of her she held, one
hand grasping each leg, what seemed to me to be an ungainly and
wingless goose. All about her the ground was soft and boggy. Her
clothes were muddy, her face was red, and the creature she held was
struggling violently.
"What on earth have you got?" I exclaimed, approaching as near as I
could, "and how did you get out there?"
"Don't you come any closer!" she cried. "You'll sink up to your waist! I
got here by treading on the little hummocks and holding on to that dead
branch; but don't you take hold of it, for you'll break it off, and then I
can't get back."
"But what is that thing?" I repeated.
"It's a young pelican," she replied. "I found a lot of nests on the ground
over there, and this was in one of them. I chased it all about, until it
flopped out here and hid itself on the other side of this tree. Then I
came out quietly and caught it. But how am I going to get it to you?"
This seemed, indeed, a problem. Euphemia declared that she needed
both hands to work her way back by the means of the long, horizontal
limb which had assisted her passage to the place where she sat, and she
also needed both hands to hold her prize. It was likewise plain that I
could not get to her. Indeed, I could not see how her light steps had
taken her over the soft and marshy ground that lay between us. I
suggested that she should throw the pelican to me. This she declined to

do.
"I could never throw it so far," she said, "and it would surely get away.
I don't want to lose this pelican, for I believe it is the last one on the
island. If there are other young ones, they have scuttled off by this time,
and I should dreadfully hate to go back to the yacht without any pelican
at all."
"I don't call that much of one," I said.
"It's a real pelican for all that," she replied, "and about as curious a bird
as I ever saw. Its wings won't stretch out seven feet, to be sure."
"About seven inches," I suggested.
"But it is a great deal easier to carry a young one like this," she
persisted, "and I expect a baby pelican is a much more uncommon sight
in the North than a grown one."
"No doubt of it," I said. "We must keep him now you've got him. Can't
you kill him?"
"I've no way of killing him," returned Euphemia. "I wonder if you
could shoot him if I were to hold him out."
This, with a shot-gun, I positively declined to do. Even if I had had a
rifle, I suggested that she might swerve. For a few moments we
remained nonplussed. I could not get to Euphemia at all, and she could
not get to me unless she released her bird, and this she was determined
not to do.
"Euphemia," I said, presently, "the ground seems hard a little way in
front of you. If you step over there, I will