“Tell you what, Freckles,” said one of the teamsters.  “Have you ever heard of this Bird Woman who goes all over the country with a camera and makes pictures?  She made some on my brother Jim’s place last summer, and Jim’s so wild about them he quits plowing and goes after her about every nest he finds.  He helps her all he can to take them, and then she gives him a picture.  Jim’s so proud of what he has he keeps them in the Bible.  He shows them to everybody that comes, and brags about how he helped.  If you’re smart, you’ll send for her and she’ll come and make a picture just like life.  If you help her, she will give you one.  It would be uncommon pretty to keep, after your birds are gone.  I dunno what they are.  I never see their like before.  They must be something rare.  Any you fellows ever see a bird like that hereabouts?”

No one ever had.

“Well,” said the teamster, “failing to get this log lets me off till noon, and I’m going to town.  I go right past her place.  I’ve a big notion to stop and tell her.  If she drives straight back in the swamp on the west road, and turns east at this big sycamore, she can’t miss finding the tree, even if Freckles ain’t here to show her.  Jim says her work is a credit to the State she lives in, and any man is a measly creature who isn’t willing to help her all he can.  My old daddy used to say that all there was to religion was doing to the other fellow what you’d want him to do to you, and if I was making a living taking bird pictures, seems to me I’d be mighty glad for a chance to take one like that.  So I’ll just stop and tell her, and by gummy! maybe she will give me a picture of the little white sucker for my trouble.”

Freckles touched his arm.

“Will she be rough with it?” he asked.

“Government land!  No!” said the teamster.  “She’s dead down on anybody that shoots a bird or tears up a nest.  Why, she’s half killing herself in all kinds of places and weather to teach people to love and protect the birds.  She’s that plum careful of them that Jim’s wife says she has Jim a standin’ like a big fool holding an ombrelly over them when they are young and tender until she gets a focus, whatever that is.  Jim says there ain’t a bird on his place that don’t actually seem to like having her around after she has wheedled them a few days, and the pictures she takes nobody would ever believe who didn’t stand by and see.”

“Will you he sure to tell her to come?” asked Freckles.

Duncan slept at home that night.  He heard Freckles slipping out early the next morning, but he was too sleepy to wonder why, until he came to do his morning chores.  When he found that none of his stock was at all thirsty, and saw the water-trough brimming, he knew that the boy was trying to make up to him for the loss of the big trough that he had been so anxious to have.

“Bless his fool little hot heart!” said Duncan.  “And him so sore it is tearing him to move for anything.  Nae wonder he has us all loving him!”