The boys threw down their guns and made a rush in the direction of the great bird. But the ground where the dancing party had been held was more adapted to bird than human feet, and their progress was slow as they sank half way to their knees in the soft earth and water.
“You stay on this side while I’ll go around behind, and we’ll make a grab at him together. We can hold him all right,” said Rob.
“Now,” said Dauphin, “catch him around his wings, and I’ll hold his legs.” And both boys made a rush. The big bird made another unavailing attempt to rise, then, awaiting the attack, drew back the long neck, and with the white plumes standing straight out behind, sent his bill like a sword-thrust straight at Dauphin’s breast. There was a sound of the impact of the blow, a moan from the boy, who sank crumpled up to the ground, and, with another mighty lift of the huge wings the Great Blue Heron was free.
Plunging through the rushes and mud, Rob reached his chum, carried him up the bank, and opened his thick hunting jacket and shirt. The long bill of the bird had evidently broken a rib, but had not penetrated the flesh. In a moment Dauphin opened his eyes. “My! what was it? I can’t breathe. Who would have thought that pesky bird could strike like that?” And, indeed, Dauphin was fortunate to have escaped with the discomfort of a broken rib, that would be “as good as new” in a couple of weeks. The strength and thickness of his buckskin jacket probably saved his life, for less than a fortnight later a young Indian of a nearby camp, struck upon the bare side by the bill of a “sandhill” crane, a much smaller bird than the Great Blue Heron, was pierced to the heart and instantly killed.
“Well,” said Rob, “we didn’t get any specimens, but we did get to attend the heron’s ball.”
“Yes,” replied Dauphin, “but I think the next time I go will be when I am an _invited_ guest.”
Those who were boys and girls in the Middle West in the year 1871, will have a vivid remembrance of the great comet that moved across the northern sky during the month of August. It was so large and brilliant, that before the sun had been altogether hidden in the west, the fiery orb of this celestial stranger could be seen glowing and as night came on the long tail would appear spreading out in a fan of light half way across the heavens. Mr. Allen was an educated man, whose favorite study in his school days had been astronomy, and although he had instructed his young sons as to the facts concerning comets, their relation to other heavenly bodies and to the earth, the rumor which had found its way into this Wisconsin wilderness home, that the world was to be destroyed by the “fervent heat” of this flaming visitor, had its effect upon the boys.