 Section 11 of Stories of the First American Animals, this is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Kristen Edwards. Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford. Poebro the Toy Camel, Part 1. To look at him, no one would have suspected Poebro of being a camel, for his two-toed feet were unpatted at the soles, and his hump was but a faint suspicion. He was small, too, about two feet tall at the shoulders, and his legs were of only moderate length. His neck was comparatively short, for not much of it was required to bring his mouth to the ground. Therefore, he could not curve it and stand with heads settled back, sleepy-eyed, chewing and working his thick lips as does the camel we know. And yet, in spite of these failings, Poebro was an honest, cross-my-heart camel, and there is no use denying that. He may not have been much to look at, but appearances are sometimes deceiving, for his pedigree was as long as your arm. His early school days were spent in the southwestern corner of Wyoming, the Bridger Country. Of course, it was too soon in his life for him to think of studying to be a camel, for he was no larger than a jackrabbit, and had no idea what he wanted to be when he grew up. And yet, even then, he was determined on making a name for himself, and being something distinctive. After a time, southwestern Wyoming began to look too slow and old-fashioned for him, so he moved farther east, to the Washaki Country. Soon, he tired of this too, and shifted northwestward. As luck would have it, this brought him into the White River region of South Dakota. This was fortunate for him, in that the country south of the Black Hills had for some time been preparing itself for a big land boom, and Poebro arrived just in time to reap the benefit. Warm air, mild breezes, and abundant moisture had been long busy on this part of the map, so that the little camel found it well stocked with tender grass, fresh water, and all manner of nice things. He believed, with good reason, that no more charming spot could be found in all the world. Other settlers began flocking in, the three-toed horse, hornless deer, running rhinoceros, and others too numerous to mention. The horse was about the size of a sheep, larger than Poebro, but more slender and graceful, and as much like a modern horse as might have been expected in those days, except that his legs were less rigid, and he wore three toes on each of his feet. True, the middle one did practically all of the work, and the smaller two, dangling one each side of it, were more ornamental than useful, but that did not prevent his being a three-toed horse. How he lost the two useless toes and finished up by walking about on the nail of his last remaining one is another story. The hornless deer was the smallest of the quartet, a dainty little deer-like creature about a yard long. The running rhinoceros was a trim-bodied, slender-legged animal, more like a stout pony than a rhinoceros. He wore no nose horn, although his muzzle arched strongly, offering a stout support for a horn if he wanted to grow one. He was much larger and heavier than any of his three companions. The four of them were most congenial. Being the country's original settlers and all of ancient family, they formed the aristocracy and were treated like aristocrats by the other animals who came later to settle about them. They were known as the plainsfolk to distinguish them from the common herd or forest dwellers who kept to the woods or near the river. This river flowed through their domains. It was not the White River, nor the Cheyenne, but another one, now long dried up and gone. Forests of wonderful trees lined it on both sides. Rushes and water plants grew thickly along its banks. On the western side inland, the trees melted away into fertile meadows, then a country bare of vegetation extending to the distant horizon, the barren wastes of the sand dunes. Poet Bro and his friends spent most of their time upon the meadows, although not infrequently they went to the river to drink and bathe. The meadows were their favorite haunt, but having come to believe that all things were intended for their own special benefit, they appropriated the riverbank too. This latter was set aside as a park. Casual intruders were warned away, and for a time they did with it about as they pleased. Being aristocrats, the plainsfolk did nothing that might be called work. Perhaps if they had spent less time idling and paid more attention to business, their affairs would have turned out better, for things happen sometimes and when one least expects them. One morning they were lolling about on the meadow when their nerves were rudely disturbed by the sound of scuffling feet. Four heads, rose in unison, and four pairs of eyes became centered upon an animal coming toward them. All recognized the pig sheep, the park's head gardener. It was his duty as caretaker to crop the grass, trim the shrubs, etc. His wages were the cuttings and trimmings, so he saw to it that the place was kept spic and span, and his stomach well filled to boot. As he halted before the plainsfolk, he puffed in blue, so great was his hurry and excitement. Some strangers are intruding in the park, he bleated loudly. You must come at once and drive them away. Who are they, Poebro demanded, and please remember to whom you are talking. It is for you to take orders, not give them. I never saw their like before came the answer in more subdued tones, but they are behaving terribly, sir. Something must be done at once. Poebro laid his head upon the grass and half closed his eyes. Tell them to go away, he yawned. If talking does no good, use force. The pig sheep slunk away, shaking his head. He was not long absent, and his measure of success might have been judged by his appearance when he returned. Mud covered him from head to foot. His nose was swollen, and he had acquired a black eye. One hind leg seemed to have suffered damage, for he limped. At sight of him the plainsfolk scrambled to their feet. Evidently, somebody had been rude. Their surprise changed to rage as their humble servant told his story. I ordered them away as you told me to, he said, but they paid no attention. Then I attempted to use force. What happened after that I cannot quite remember. I seemed to be flying in all directions, principally up, with nothing but air to cling to. Finally I landed somewhere with a bump. That was all. But I think it quite enough, and with your kind permission, I will go away for a few days to rest and calm my nerves. It was a touching narrative. The pig sheep presented a most pathetic and woe-begone appearance, as he told it. We will look into this matter at once, Poe Bro burst out angrily. These strangers must be made an example of. Let us go and attend to the matter ourselves. So he led the way post-haste, crossed the meadows, and threw the forest until the four of them stood upon the riverbank. Here they stopped and stared, too amazed for words for what they saw there was enough to open anybody's eyes. The park presented a sorry sight. The grass was trampled and torn, the shrubs beaten down, and the sloping banks disfigured by wallows and mud holes. All around and doing nothing but stand, sit, and lie were a host of strange animals. Such a fat, stupid, and ungainly lot the plainsfolk had never seen. Some were large, others medium-sized, long-legged, short-legged with pudgy bodies, and heavy noses bearing one or two horns. In some cases none at all. It seemed as though every rhinoceros in the world had come to desecrate this hallowed spot. Many creatures other than these first named were present in great number. They resembled the rhinos but were larger and more stoutly built. These were the titan beasts. Most of them wore nose horns in all sizes from small to large. They wore them in pairs, not one behind the other as did the rhinos, but branching out sideways from a thick root to form the letter V. All had small, piggy eyes, and scooped out foreheads where brains ought to have been. None moved, except for the occasional whisking of a tail or ear. They might have passed for clay, or rather mud statues, for this latter material plastered them from head to foot. What a disgusting lot, Poe Bro's sniffed in amazement. How did they come here, and so many? Wait while I go and speak my mind to them. He tripped down the bank, taking good care not to soil his shiny hooves in the mud, which the intruders had scattered thoughtlessly about. Before him stood big horn, one of the titan beasts gazing dully into space and spanking the flies with his pig-like tail. He was a pudding sort of animal, with nose horns, legs, and things sticking out all over him. He looked, not at, but right through the little camel as the latter halted before him. They were a strongly contrasted pair, standing there close and facing each other. On the one hand, the dainty little camel, neat and trim from head to foot. On the other, the burly titan beast, eyes, ears, and mouth, buried in fat and heavy skin, and plastered all over with mud. Poe Bro had no thought of danger. He would have ventured even closer had he not been fearful of soiling himself on the dirty brute. I wish it distinctly understood, he said in his haughtiest manner, that this is our park and no strangers are permitted here. You and your friends will now clean up this mess and leave at once. Big Horn merely flicked the fly off his rump and continued gazing dreamily into space. Poe Bro was greatly annoyed at such rudeness. You must leave at once, he repeated, raising his voice to a higher key. But the titan beast paid not the slightest attention. He must be deaf, thought the little camel, so he stepped closer and fairly shouted his commands in the other's ear. The ear in question moved forward half an inch, but that seemed to be the best Big Horn could do by way of response. At this Poe Bro flew into a great rage. Miserable brute, he screamed, if you do not answer or do as I say, I will chastise you. Womp, womp, Poe Bro turned quickly and saw one of the intruders coming toward him along the bank. This was another variety, the river pig, a smaller and more slender animal than either the rhinos or titan beasts, but a most surly looking brute. He halted a few paces from the little camel and eyed him threateningly. What are you doing here, little pest he grunted coarsely? Cannot you see that this good creature is trying to rest? Now run away and do not disturb him again, or I will toss you into the river. His teeth gleamed so menacingly that Poe Bro retreated in alarm. He returned to his friends in a great rage, for talking seemed to produce no results and he knew nothing else to do. How can we rid the place of these disgusting beasts, he scolded? They will not even listen to me and yet we cannot let them stay here. How can we prevent them, the three-toed horse inquired? They are too big and too many for us. Better return to the meadows, they may go away of their own accord if we leave them alone. The hornless deer and running rhinoceros considered this a very good plan. The former was a timid little animal and preferred going around to bumping his head against difficult problems. The latter could not lightly ignore his relationship to the newcomers. He was a rhinoceros, a more refined article than they, and yet of the same general brand. He agreed with the three-toed horse that the intruders must be left in possession of the field for the present. So they returned to the meadows. All but Poe Bro. The little camel's pride was deeply wounded and he was determined that he at least would not yield so easily. He tripped along the banks, studying the various individuals as they remained immovable in their peculiar poses. None of them paid the slightest attention to him. He descended the bank to drink and was about to lower his mouth to the water when he clenched his jaws together angrily at sight of a clump of rushes growing in the shallows. Even they were crushed and beaten about as though ponderous feet had trampled there. He was moving toward them for a closer examination when a muffled snort sounded from their midst. There was another of those awful rhinos glaring at him as it stood knee-deep in the water. Poe Bro. could no longer contain himself. Go away, dirty beast he screamed. This is my river. You must go away. At this the burly intruder splashed his way ashore and faced the little camel with mouth wide open. He was a water rhinoceros and wore no nose horn but his long upper canine tusks were enough to frighten anybody. By this time Poe Bro. had worked himself into a terrible state of nerves. He simply would not permit those beasts to remain and yet what could he do? Finally he ceased struggling against fate and returned to the meadows where his friends awaited him. The situation as far as the plainsfolk were concerned became more and more difficult each day. Rhinos and Titan beasts continued trooping in until the riverbank fairly swarmed with them. Whenever the plainsfolk went there to drink and bathe they found the water so muddied they turned up their noses and refused to touch it. To their complaints the ill-mannered strangers merely grunted, those who are too particular can look for their water somewhere else. Then a fresh consignment arrived, a herd of giant pigs. By this time the river border had become so crowded these later arrivals were obliged to seek the woods to find room for themselves. Luckily for the forest dwellers who were already there the bulk of them were tree animals but they passed many sleepless nights with all that grunting and squealing going on beneath them. With this swine influx Poe Bro and his friends felt that their limit of endurance was nearly reached. The pigs were an even surlier lot than the rhinos and Titan beasts and much more aggressive. Many of them were as large and strong as bulls. Their heads were simply enormous, their tusks enough to terrify the stoutest heart and they were surprisingly active considering their size. They told the plainsfolk without mincing words that they would do well to keep out of the woods and stay on the meadows where they belonged. Did the plainsfolk do as bitten? You may be sure they did. Imagine a herd of bulls with wild boar's heads. One such animal would make anybody think twice before choosing to offend him. What brought about this invasion of giant pigs, rhinos and Titan beasts? Why did they come to this particular spot instead of going somewhere else? These were questions that Poe Bro and his friends asked themselves without receiving satisfactory answers. The fact was that the strangers were emigrants newly arrived from Asia and Europe. Somehow they had learned of the wonderful region south of the Black Hills and decided it was well worth their time and trouble to have a look. It was a long, hard journey. Steamships, railroad trains, motor trucks and all such means of conveyance were unheard of in those days and animals traveled about on their own feet. However, North America and Asia were joined together somewhere in the Pacific Ocean and that made matters easier. How long it took them to make the journey nobody knows? Nor cares. Enough to say that finally they arrived and found the White River region up to and well above their standards. It was a quiet, restful place with warm climate and plenty to eat and drink. Everything suited them so they decided to stay. The plains folks soon realized this to their sorrow but they could do no more than make the best of a bad situation. The rhinos and Titan beasts held the river and its banks while the giant pigs ruled the forests. This left only the meadows for the plains folk but as soon as they had grown a bit accustomed to changed conditions they really got along very well there for it furnished the food they liked best. Occasional streams and pools of water gave them plenty to drink. This was more than they deserved considering the snobbish way they had treated others in the past. They had been taught a good lesson and would have been much better for it had not unforeseen complications arisen to give them real cause for worry. Browsing and grazing animals never went about in large numbers without having a host of fierce beasts trailing after them. Now that the rhinos and their brood had come to stay, the others stayed too. Being flesh eaters these hangers on preyed upon the vegetable eaters hiding in the woods and springing out upon the more peaceful animals whenever the chance offered. The beasts of prey consisted of big otter-like minks, bear cats, and civet dogs. Seeing the plains folk upon the meadows they would crawl up as close as they could without being seen and then dash upon them. But the plains folk were sharp eyed and swift afoot and could not be caught by such methods. At the first sign of danger they darted away like the wind and no flesh eater was fleet enough to catch them. The troubles of Poebro and his friends seemed to be multiplying and yet, all things considered, a brush now and then with the flesh eaters really did them good. It kept them keen of eye and ear and improved their physical condition just as continued rebuffs by the river beast had improved their manners. The attacks of their fierce enemies merely sharpened their wits and created many a diversion. They were beginning to enjoy their new life and find much happiness in it when a new and terrible danger descended upon them from a clear sky. This was the unexpected arrival of the saber cat, one whose two upper canine teeth were developed into curved daggers. Although no larger than a panther cub, he was to the plains folk a most formidable enemy, not merely because of his saber fangs but because of his long legs and lean muscular body so well adapted for swift running, for as a racing competitor of fleet-footed animals the plains folk soon learned to their consternation that he was a match for themselves. End of Section 11. Section 12 of Stories of the First American Animals. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Kristen Edwards. Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford. Poebro, the Toy Camel, Part 2. The plains folk took counsel among themselves. All realized that the saber cat was a deadly menace. If they could not circumvent him somehow, they must either go away or face destruction. The three-toed horse voiced the general sentiment. Our affairs are drifting from bad to worse, he said. First, the river beasts ruin our park. Then, the giant pigs turn our woods upside down. And finally, the flesh-eaters come to destroy our lives. The saber cat is as swift-footed as we are. What shall we do? I might suggest something, replied the running rhinoceros with some show of embarrassment. The river beasts, as you may know, are relatives of mine. I did not invite them here. He snorted as his three friends pricked up their ears and glared at him. I have not the remotest idea where they came from. But, now that they are here and cannot be gotten rid of, my relationship to them may be turned to good account. How, demand Poebro suspiciously. Although forced to accept the situation, his opinion of the river beasts had not improved one whit. The running rhinoceros was observant enough to see what was in the little camel's mind. Now, be careful, Poebro, or you will spoil everything he remonstrated. We are in a desperate plight and dare not be over particular. I am related to the river beasts and I cannot help that, but it gives me an idea which I believe will work out nicely. I slipped past the giant pigs and down to the river this morning. There, I met Brontus. Brontus, who is he, Poebro demanded. One of the titan beasts, the largest, their leader, and not a bad creature, when once you know him. However, he is like all the rest of them, mean and stubborn, or, good natured and agreeable, according to the notion he takes. Things have come to the point where we must cultivate his friendship. The hornless deer and three-toed horse nodded approval. Poebro scowled and ground his teeth together, but said nothing. The running rhinoceros assumed a more confident air. Poebro might be stubborn, but he was only one against three. Once on friendly terms with Brontus, he went on, we have no trouble with the others. In this way, we avoid the saber-cat and ensure our safety, also our water supply. It is very simple. Simple as far as the water is concerned, snapped Poebro, but as to our avoiding the saber-cat, I do not see your point at all. The little camel was by nature timid and feared the swift hunter above all things. Simple if you will see it, the other retorted. The saber-cat dare not attack the giant pigs or river beasts, they are too big and strong for him. If we stay near them, they will protect us. Brontus hinted as much to me, but then, as I said before, we must be careful the way we treat him. The hornless deer and three-toed horse again signified their approval. Poebro hesitated, torn by contending emotions. His fear of the saber-cat vied with contempt for the vulgar rabble, but it took him only a moment to decide. His eyes blazed, his nostrils swelled scornfully. Associate with the river beasts he stormed? I say, no, no, no! Not one of those dirty brutes will have my friendship, even though I be driven into the saber-cat's jaws. He might have said more for the very idea of his descending to the river beast's social plane was more than he could bear. Suddenly a change came over him. His tongue became paralyzed and froze to the roof of his mouth. His eyes started from his head. His whole body trembled as he stared, half dead with fear, at something not a stone's throw distant. There lay a large boulder and a pair of fierce eyes were peering from behind it. They were the eyes of his dreaded enemy. Aspying the plane's folk from a distance, the saber-cat had crept up, unobserved, skillfully making use of every shrub and stone to conceal his approach. A few yards more, and he would have been well within striking range. But fortunately for the plane's folk, Poe Bro caught sight of him just in time. The little camel managed to find the use of his tongue. The saber-cat, he screamed, Run! Run for your lives! Out leaped the fleet racer, and the plane's folk scattered in all directions. Poe Bro heard the patter of soft feet close at his heels. He snatched one quick glimpse behind him. The saber-cat had singled him out and was racing after him with the swiftness of the wind. A fresh burst of speed which taxed his utmost powers, and Poe Bro barely maintained his lead. He fairly flew over the meadow, but the saber-cat kept pace with him, traveling at a tremendous rate with his long leaps and bounds. Poe Bro disbared never before had he attained such speed, and yet he could know more than hold even with his relentless pursuer. There must be an end some time and soon. His strength was failing rapidly. He could not long maintain that terrific pace. In his terror and desperation, the little camel suddenly turned and dashed toward the vast open country, the barren wastes of the sand dunes. His pursuer stopped short, as his feet touched the first patch of soft, yielding sand. To him the desert seemed a dreadful place. He snarled horribly as he watched Poe Bro's speed swiftly away. That little camel will soon be mine, he said between his clenched teeth. He must have water, and he will find none in the sand country. All I need to do is watch and catch him when he returns. Poe Bro never halted in his flight across the sand dunes until he felt sure that the saber-cat had abandoned the chase. Then he stopped. Sand, sand everywhere. Its emptiness and vastness were appalling. In the distance behind him where desert merged into meadow, stood his dreaded enemy. What if I had not seen him and he had secured a quicker start? The idea gave him the shivers and he decided to stay where he was for the present. Poe Bro hated the sand country, but the saber-cat apparently liked it even less. The place possessed no attractions, but it was a haven of refuge, and the little camel was more than glad so to make use of it for the time being. It was now late in the afternoon. Poe Bro began to feel hungry and thirsty too. He looked about him. I am safe enough from the saber-cat, he thought. Nobody would choose to annoy me here, but the question is, how am I going to eat and drink? Something of a problem. True, it was a safe place to be in, for a time. There was no end of room to run around in, but green grass and water were conspicuous by their absence. Poe Bro was not long in discovering this, and it worried him greatly. I must eat and I must drink, he whimpered. I wish that mean brute would go away and let me alone. But the saber-cat would not go away. The little camel could see him in the distance, moving about upon the meadow. None of Poe Bro's companions was in sight. He felt hungry and thirsty and lonesome too, and would have given much to be with his friends, munching sweet grass and cooling his throat with refreshing drink. But hunger, thirst, and craving for companionship could not equal his fear of the saber-cat. As night came on, he withdrew further into the sand country, for he was fearful that his enemy might sneak up and catch him unawares if he stayed too close to the meadows. His surroundings were strange to him, and he passed a bad night. With the first appearance of morning light, he made off for the meadows, hoping that the saber-cat had tired of his vigil and gone away. As he came in sight of the grassy region, at first his heart fluttered with joyful anticipation. His friends were not there, to be sure, but it would seem that the saber-cat was not there either. A stone lay upon the ground, otherwise the meadow was bare, except for the grass that grew upon it. The sight of that grass filled the little camel's heart to bursting. Soon his stomach would be in the same condition, provided he got safely to it. He quickened his pace, and then the stone suddenly came to life and bounded toward him with the speed of the wind. Poebro was half mad with hunger and thirst, but his legs and wind were still in working order, and he made good use of them. Back he flew into the sand country with the saber-cat, hot after him. For a second time, Poebro outran his enemy and escaped. The saber-cat soon dropped the chase. He merely wished to frighten the little camel and keep him away from the meadows. Hunger and thirst would do their work in a short time, and then he would have an opportunity to eat his fill of camel flesh. Meanwhile, Poebro was speeding across the desert. Nor did he stop until he could no longer see the meadows behind him. He had slowed down to a trot and was dropping into a fast walk when he sought to the left of him a shallow depression with the green tops of something protruding from its bottom. He turned in that direction and discovered a puddle of water with long grass growing out of it. The next moment he was bending over it prepared for a long deep drink. The water was so hot and foul, it almost made him sick. But it was better than nothing. He drank only a little, however, just enough to moisten his tongue and throat then he turned his attention to the grass. Rank? Worse than that. He screwed up his face at the first taste of the bitter juice. It was hard work chewing it to a pulp and still worse gulping it down. Even his tough, leathery stomach shifted uneasily as it received the first consignment. It was empty enough to endure almost anything but that dose of foul water and nasty green mass following closely after was certainly straining a point. However, it did its best to manage the horrible stuff hoping that it would never have to do so again. Poebro ate but sparingly of the grass just enough to keep him alive for another day. Then, when nearly dead with hunger and thirst, he again endured the operation of eating and drinking at that filthy pool, thus managing to exist for several days. But finally he could stand it no longer and decided to return to the meadows even though this meant another race with the saber-cat. Perhaps the beast had wearied of his vigil and gone away. Poebro hoped so for this would give him a chance to secure the food and drink which he sorely craved. So he journeyed across the desert to the meadows and nearly wept for joy when he saw that his enemy had disappeared. Of course the latter too must eat and no doubt he was away somewhere attending to his own wants. However, there was no telling just how soon he would return and so Poebro made good use of the opportunity afforded him. He hurried to the nearest grass plot and ate as he had never eaten in all his life. His hunger being appeased he trotted to one of the well-known drinking places and attended to his thirst. It was a feast fit for a king. Never had he so enjoyed himself he would have liked to lie down in doze and thus round out a heavenly morning, but of course that was asking too much. The saber-cat might return at any moment and Poebro shuddered as he reflected that with all that grass and water in his stomach he would have a hard time if it came to another of those nerve-wracking runs. He could not stay where he was, that was certain. He hated the very idea of going back alone to the sand country. Then too there were his friends to consider. What had become of them? They must have gone to the river. He recalled what the running rhinoceros had said about making friends with the titan beasts. He pursed his lips scornfully. Yes, it must be that the plainsfolk had taken refuge with them. He would go and see. He crossed the meadows to the woods, meanwhile keeping a sharp lookout for the saber-cat and other enemies that might be roving about. However, he managed to reach the forest unmolested. He was making his way gingerly through the underbrush when he heard footsteps approaching. He stopped and remained perfectly still so that he might escape being seen or heard. The unknown kept on and was almost abreast of him when Poe-Abro gave a squeal of delight and jumped out to meet him. The newcomer was the three-toed horse. Both were mightily pleased to meet for each considered the other his dearest friend. And so you escaped a saber-cat, the three-toed horse exclaimed joyfully. It seems too good to be true. Where have you been hiding yourself? In the sand-country, Poe-Abro replied, the brute would not follow me there. Of course not, said the other. The place would not keep a squirrel alive. I do not see how you managed to exist. I know the little camel sniffed, making a horrible face as he remembered his daily dose of medicine at that stinking pool. The grass and water are the worst I ever tasted, but even they are better than being killed by the saber-cat. Poor old Poe-Abro sighed the three-toed horse, you have had more than your share of trouble, but soon everything will be all right. You must return with me. Matters are now all nicely arranged. The river beasts are our friends, and you need worry no more about that wretched saber-cat. Poe-Abro's manner became frigid in an instant. He raised his head and gazed coldly at the other. Your friends, he sniffed, who would imagine that you could come to that? I know I couldn't. I may be less particular than you, the three-toed horse explained. Something had to be done, for we knew that sooner or later the saber-cat would catch us if we remained upon the meadows. You chose the sand-country. We, the river beasts. And I warrant that we are more satisfied with our choice than you are with yours. How did you arrange it? Easy enough. The running rhinoceros had already prepared the way, and only a little care on our part was needed to ensure complete success. You see, these river beasts are too stupid to learn much of anything. They know how to eat, drink, and sleep, but not much else. They are stubborn as well as stupid, and are about as mean as any animals I know of when they take a strong dislike to anyone. On the other hand, they are remarkably good-tempered when treated and spoken too kindly. They had not enough sense to see just how we did it, but our soft words pleased them, and they gave us everything we wanted, food, drink, and protection from the saber-cat. And dearly bought the little camel muttered in tones of deepest scorn. His friend looked at him sharply. Now be sensible, pro-bro, he protested. Things have changed since the old days, and we must change with them. Your pride will not help you. It may be too late when you discover this. Even Brontus, with all of his dullness, was sharp enough to see that you were not with us. He and all the rest know what you think of them. The first thing he said after we had made our peace with him was, what has become of that conceited little camel? No objection to your making your home here, but I will have something else to say if he tries to sneak in. Where is he now? I told about our brush with the saber-cat and how he had probably caught and killed you, but Brontus flew into a great rage. I know where he is and what he is doing, he bellowed. I know everything that is going on about here, even on the meadows and in the sand country beyond. You see, the little horse explained, if you do not join us soon, it will be too late. Brontus may never give you another chance. But Poe-bro only shook his head obstinately. Those river beasts are more than I can endure, he said. Imagine my treating them as equals. I will have nothing to do with them. I won't go. His friend pleaded and strove to reason with him, but in vain. The little camel had neither hunger, thirst, nor the saber-cat to worry him at the moment, and he was thinking only of his contempt for the river beasts. Things had not yet come to such a past that he need demean himself by associating with such low and vulgar animals. No use arguing. He would live his life alone if he had to. There seemed nothing more to be said, so the two parted. Now that he had learned how matters stood, the little camel returned to the meadows. He had a faint hope that he might be permitted to remain there, unmolested, for he saw no sign of the saber-cat. He was even thinking of lying down upon the cool grass for a rest when, swish, something shot through the air and frightened him almost to death. Away he flew, only to slow up after a short run requiring that it was merely a large mink that had so startled him. However, this incident ruffled his nerves considerably, and when a bit later a pack of civet dogs rushed out at him from behind some bushes, he considered it high time for him to get back into the sand-country where he belonged. It seemed only a moment since he had last eaten and slaked his thirst, but his recent run and the scorching sun had heated him greatly to feel the need of food and drink. However, he dared not return to the meadows for those civet dogs had not yet gone away and no doubt the saber-cat was hiding somewhere near. I have that ill-smelling pool anyhow he consoled himself. If worse comes to worst, I can get along with that for a time. He turned his steps in that direction to make sure it was still there and could be depended upon. To his surprise and consternation he saw a cat-like figure sprawled upon the sand beside it and fast asleep. That figure was the saber-cat. That camel has found water somewhere he determined as the days passed and Poebro managed to exist away from the meadows, so he had ventured into the desert that very day and discovered what he was after. Poebro's tracks were plainly visible. I can rest here and catch him when he returns if he does not return before long I will go back to the meadows and find him. This seemed a very good plan so the saber-cat lay down to rest. Unfortunately for him he not only rested but fell so soundly asleep that Poebro had time to hurry away before his persecutor could awake and follow him. The little camel was indeed in dire straits. His enemy now guarded not only the meadows but the pool too. Bad as the latter was, Poebro would have given anything to possess it undisturbed. He tried to find another but without success. Drinking holes in the desert were decidedly scarce for little rain fell there and what did fall dried up faster than it could accumulate. The days passed. He made several attempts to reach the meadows waiting until night so that he could slip up to them without being seen. Two he failed. Those dogs and the saber-cat saw better in the dark than they did by day. Poebro was taking desperate chances now for lingering death awaited him unless he soon obtained food and water. But he was rapidly growing weaker and one night after a long run across the desert with the hot breath of the saber-cat scorching his heels he gave up the hopeless struggle and decided to throw himself upon the mercy of the river beasts. They had received his friends and would receive him too when they learned what he had endured from the flesh-eaters. Yes, he would swallow his pride. He would speak gently to the river beasts and treat them more kindly than they deserved. He was worn out in body and spirit and could no longer struggle against fate. Once having made this decision he felt really much relieved. He would be courteous and kind and treat the river beasts as his equals and yet this in a manner becoming his dignity. So he crossed the desert until he came within sight of the meadows. Here he waited until a favorable chance presented itself for a dash across them then away he flew over the grass to the woods. Once there he proceeded cautiously to avoid a clash with any giant pig he might meet. All went well with him and he got safely through. He was trotting to the river bank and a loud voice bellowed him to halt. He stopped and a huge, ungainly animal came lumbering toward him. It was Brontis, leader of the beasts of Titan. End of Section 12. Section 13 of Stories of the First American Animals. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Kristen Edwards. Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford. Poebro, the toy camel, Part 3. Brontis was feeling out of sorts. The flies had been tormenting him and something he had eaten lay heavy upon his mind and stomach. He was in a far from jovial mood and having observed the little camel's approach was now ambling along the bank to intercept him. Where his line of travel crossed that of Poebro, he stopped and watched the ladder out of one piggy eye. It made him cross-eyed to use two when looking at anything head-on because of his V-shaped nose-horn arrangement which obstructed his direct line of vision. Here comes that proud and hotty little camel he sneered. I can make a good guess what he wants. Will he get it? Not unless he wallows in the mud and does a few other things to rid himself of his fine heirs. Poebro came jauntily on until he was within several paces of the huge Titan Beast. The ladder blocked his further progress, so he stopped. I have come to join my friends, he said. Life upon the meadows is impossible while the flesh-eaters are there. The woods are filled with great ugly pigs. The river is all that is left for me. I will disturb neither you nor your friends, and now we can all live peacefully together. Poebro spoke calmly and graciously. A genuine feeling of goodwill prompted him for he was determined to forgive and forget the past. Brontus did not look at the matter from this point of view, however. His little eyes blinked wickedly. Willing to converse with your inferiors are you, he grunted. Aren't you afraid of being seen here talking to me? Your reputation will be ruined if anyone hears of it. Poebro detected the biting sarcasm in the other's voice, but he had made his decision and was determined to abide by it. I no longer care what other animals think, he replied firmly. I am willing to talk with you, and nobody will know that I am ashamed to be seen doing it. I have changed, and now I must change with them. These few sentences cost Poebro much effort, but they were delivered wholeheartedly and without the slightest suggestion of bitterness, and yet, strange to say, the words and the tone in which they were uttered irritated Brontus exceedingly. It was as though the business end of a hornet had punctured his thick hide. So good of you to comment all that, he mocked. Your affairs must be in a sad state to drive you to it. What is the trouble? Too much rice eating and drinking? No indeed, Poebro hastened to assure him. I don't get enough. There's nothing left for me since all these strangers came here and crowded me out. Brontus felt his rage rising fast. Crowded you out, eh? he squealed. Never have I listened to such insolence. You can't deceive me, for I know all about you. What of the warm, delightful sand country that you have appropriated for your own use without consulting anyone? It is more territory than all the rest of us have put together. But who wants such a place, the little camel protested? How can I live there? What do you expect me to eat and drink? Sand and hot air? Brontus gulped down the anger that would keep coming up in spite of him. You want it or you would not go there, he bellowed. As for your diet, what business is that of mine? You are old enough to take care of yourself. I still say that you have appropriated far more land than you are entitled to. I suppose that next you will be asking me for this river. Some of it, yes, but so very little was the answer. Brontus almost choked with the rage that now consumed him. Isn't there little enough in the sand country, he roared? Why don't you stay out there now that you have grown accustomed to it? It is a wonderful place, plenty of room, quiet, hot air, and no end of nice, soft sand. Why, I would go there myself if it only had more water. And the big brute forgot his rage long enough to chuckle at his own humor. Yes, water, said Poe, bro. That's what it needs, but there is none. It's the only place where I can get it. Who said you could get it here, Brontus demanded? I know I didn't, and I'm the one who manages this river. The little camel's heart sank within him like lead. It was very weak of him to climb down from his lofty pedestal, but he was tired and discouraged, and his trouble seemed without end. I have never injured any of you, he said piteously. Arm, can it do you now if I come and drink from this river? Won't you let me have some? Um, well, that's different. The Titan Beast's anger began to cool. It was as the running rhinoceros had said. He was not a bad sort at all if managed just right. He could get along with a crocodile if it did not rub him the wrong way. He really admired Poe, bro's spunk, and if the latter would only drop his lofty heirs, the two might be good friends. He remained silent, turning the matter over in his mind, watching Poe, bro with his head cocked on one side. The little camel stood silently awaiting his answer. The features of the burly Titan Beast remain stolid and entirely devoid of expression. He was thinking, and when an animal of his caliber stopped to think, he consumed much time. Poe, bro's sighed, and so this was his answer. He could expect no favors from the surly brute. His head drooped dejectedly. He sighed, then turned and walked slowly away. Wait a moment. The little camel halted, as bitten, and faced about. Don't be in such a hurry, brunt as grunted in his softest tones. I was considering the matter and possibly I can arrange it. But there are conditions. It remains for you to decide. Conditions? Poe, bro noted the changed tone with considerable surprise. The ill-mannered grunts were now soft and weedling. Brontis always appeared at his best when he wore the crabbed and pig-ish air, common to his kind. He could be genial without one's guessing it to look at him, but when he endeavored to appear genial, he invariably made a mess of it. The little camel's suspicions were instantly aroused. He listened attentively. Yes, leered Brontis with head drawn back into the rolls of fat about his neck. I believe it can be arranged. You can drink and eat all you want, and my friends and I will see to it that none of the flesh-eaters harms you. For your part, there are a few things to be observed to show your good faith. And those few things are? Simple matters to convince us that you now see the error of your ways. First, you must have a mud-bath, a roll in the wallows so that you will be well plastered from head to foot. Poe, bro, winced. He was about to reply angrily when he thought of the saber-cat. He gulped down his pride and answered, Yes, if I must, and he came forward to proceed with the ordeal at once. Mmm, but that's not all, said Brontis. After your mud-bath, and there is to be no washing it off, mind you, I will take you around to meet my friends. Poe, bro, bit his lips, swallowed the lump in his throat, and answered bravely, Yes, I will go with you. And to each of my friends, you must apologize most humbly for your past conduct. Only then will they know that the little camel considers himself no better than they. And what if I refuse? You will never be permitted to come here again, squealed the huge, tightened beast. His soft manner suddenly changing to rage. Do you mean to say that you dare refuse? He took a step forward. Poe, bro, backed off several paces. He, too, was furious. I certainly do, he cried. I have humiliated myself too much already, standing here talking to you. As for your fat, ill-mannered brood, I would die rather than be seen with any of them. You may keep your river and everything else you have stolen. As he said this, he glanced behind him to make sure that his line of retreat remained open. Brontis was nearly beside himself with anger. He would have chastised Poe, bro, for his insults, but he knew that the little camel was too nimble for him to catch. Go and feed your miserable little body to the saber-cat he stormed. You will never get a drop of the river-water as long as I live. Poe, bro, turned and began walking to the forest without daining a reply. Brontis squealed mockingly after him. When you reach the meadows, take a pool along with you to the sand-country. Otherwise you will surely be thirsty. Well, I did the best I could, sighed Poe, bro, as he made his way through the forest. Probably that ugly brute would have made my life unbearable, even if I had done all he demanded of me. The little camel had now burned all his bridges behind him, as he well knew. It was the sand-country or nothing, and as he was not ready to die just yet, he determined to manage somehow. Before venturing across the meadows, he filled himself with food and drink. This done, he made a careful survey and, finding all clear at the moment, dashed off to the sand dunes and safety. The hot, dry desert was anything but inviting. Its vast emptiness and desolation were enough to deter the bravest spirit. Poe, bro, was a timid little body, the very thought of being near the saber-cat filled him with terror. The river-beasts inspired only his disgust, but the one sentiment was, in its way, as bad as the other. Nobody would have suspected it to look at him, and yet, in some respects, Poe, bro, was really a marvel of daring and desperate courage. No longer could he depend upon the meadows or river, the sand-country must be his home. With a bold heart, he plunged far into the desert, subsisting upon almost nothing and keeping his eyes open at all times in the hope of finding ways and means to make a living. Just about when he was ready to drop from hunger, thirst, and exhaustion, he came upon a patch of fertile country. It was but a patch, a tiny island in a sea of sand, but it proved his salvation. The grass was fresh and sweet, the few trees gave him shelter from the scorching sun, and a tiny brooklet gushing from the sand afforded him an abundance of cool drinking water. This haven of refuge, or oasis, was a revelation to him. With spots like this one to come to, the desert was not such a bad place after all. Having established his headquarters, he explored deeper into the sand country. Fertile patches similar to the one he had discovered were few and far between, so far that he dared not leave one to go to another. And yet, if he could only manage to carry a supply of water and food with him, a trip from one oasis to another would not have been a matter at all difficult to arrange. Poe Bro's new home was a beautiful spot, but a prison nevertheless. If he were compelled to live in that one place the rest of his life, eventually he would go mad or die of loneliness. Would that I did not have to drink so often, he sighed, but in this hot, dry country, I need more water than ever, and I cannot carry this brook around with me when I want to go anywhere. This made him think of what Brontes had last said about taking one of the meadow-pools with him. Not a bad idea, he thought. Of course, I couldn't think of carrying so much water. An extra supply, even a little, would be enough. But what have I to carry it in? The only place I know of is my stomach, and I have no room there to spare. However, his stomach could be stretched a bit when it saw the need of stretching. Poe Bro had to find extra room there somehow, and necessity is the mother of invention. Before venturing forth into the desert, he took a big drink to satisfy his ordinary thirst and another drink after it, such as a long journey in the dry country required. His stomach was not slow in responding to this water treatment. Gradually it expanded until Poe Bro had an extra water compartment rigged up in one corner of it. It was like the little gallon tank in the big gasoline reservoir of an automobile, a last resort and enough to get home on if the big tank ran dry. Poe Bro was the original inventor, but nobody ever gave him credit for it. He had his own way of arranging the details after the main principle was established. Much time was spent in perfecting it, but finally he became a regular water tank going about on four legs. It was a grand and glorious scheme. Before leaving one oasis, he first took a long, deep drink to care for his immediate thirst, then a second big drink after it to fill his storage tank. This latter provided for future needs and carried him safely to the next oasis. The matter of food also gave him considerable concern, although it was far less serious than the water problem. It seemed as though there might be some way of storing an extra food supply, too, for traveling long distances. He had already used up the available space inside of him, but he had learned by this time that with persistence his body could be persuaded to do what was demanded of it. True, the space in his stomach was all used up, but there was nothing outside of it that would prevent further expansion. Accordingly he set about to make room upon his back. In time it grew to be a pronounced hump. It detracted somewhat from his former graceful figure, but he could not help that. This hump, although not a thing of beauty, was a great improvement for it carried food enough to last him for a week. Having succeeded so well thus far, he made another change. He permitted his two toed hooves to be encased in pads of flesh and callous skin, thus protecting his feet from the hot sand and securing a more comfortable footing. Strange how circumstances alter cases, this same sand country, which at first threatened his undoing, was now his paradise. The keel was laid, and the finished camel, or ship of the desert, rose rapidly upon the ways. Somewhere near the Rocky Mountains was the scene of his launching. His range was the length and breadth of our United States. His home is now in far off Asia and Africa. If he had not gone there, things might now be much different. Probably the tawny Arabs and dusky Ethiopians never stopped to think of that, nor does it occur to them that the camel, which they set so much store by, from little Poa Bro, the toy camel, who, ages ago, left the fertile meadows of South Dakota to make his home among the sand dunes. End of Section 13. Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Manitus, the Merman of the Chesapeake Introduction Rocks of the less recent Myocene period, which may be found in many localities of the western United States, contain many bones of three toad horses, long-necked camels, hornless rhinoceri, and many other kind of land beasts. But only on the Atlantic coast are there much to be learned about sea mammals. Comparatively few warm-bodied, hair-covered beasts took to water entirely, and the bones of most of them now lie deep in the ocean bed. However, there is one place where the shoreline extended much farther inland during less recent Myocene times than it does now, and here ancient beach deposits have accumulated. These, the calvert cliffs of Maryland, are south of Annapolis on the side of Chesapeake Bay. The waters of the bay, beating against the foot of the cliffs, have undermined and cut away great sections, leaving their animal relics strewn upon the present narrow beaches. Shark teeth are everywhere in evidence, representing many varieties of the shark family. Dogfishes, stingrays, hammerheads, and huge examples of the modern man-eating type. Their skeletons of cartilage soon dissolved after death and left no trace. The mammal teeth, which fairly litter the beaches, are sufficient evidence of their once great number and variety. However, sharks belong to an ancient order of the fish family, and as our concern is with mammals, we will pass on. The calvert cliffs contain bones of whales, toothless animals like our modern bofin and beluga, also toothed species such as the sperm, porpoise, dolphin, and killer. All were mammals, only ones to live entirely in the sea, except for a solitary individual who has left but one or two bones to identify him. Whales were flesh-eaters, but this lone creature fed entirely upon plants, and was therefore in a class by himself. His flippers, which outwardly resembled big, thumbless mittens, had their wrists and finger bones arranged like those of a man. And so we call him manatus, which translated into pure English means he of the human hand. End of Section 14. Section 15 of Stories of the First American Animals. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org recording by Dana Patterson, Lexington Park, Maryland. Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford. Manatus, the Merman of the Chesapeake, Part 1. Once upon a time, over one million years ago, the site of Washington, our national capital, faced directly upon the Atlantic Ocean. Southeastern Maryland was at that time submerged and formed a huge sand bar on the eastern side of the Chesapeake Bay, a river flowing southeastward, somewhere below Washington, emptied into the bay. This river has long since disappeared, filled in with accumulations of ages, and few know that it ever existed. The lower portion near its mouth was a broad estuary gradually contracting to a narrow stream further inland near its source. This upper portion was the river of mystery. Here, dense woodlands formed almost inaccessible barriers on both sides of the restricted channel. The tall, closely packed trees extended their branches and leaf masses from either bank, thus forming a vaulted roof, thick and impenetrable to outside light. Beneath it, the river flowed lazily onward, a thick, sluggish sewer, more dismal and forbidding than the rank mustiness through which it crept. The silence was unbroken, except for the faint sighing of leaves overhead, and an occasional plump, as some loathsome denizen of this place of darkness was a murky pool from overhanging branch or vine. The river of mystery seemed in truth a river of death, and yet eyes keen enough to penetrate far into its depths might have observed a dark form gliding downstream over its bed, leaving only an occasional air bubble upon the surface above and behind it to mark its course. It was a large, torpedo-shaped body of almost fish-like form, but it is not given for fishes or air bubbles behind them, such as do mammals or creatures with air-breathing lungs and warm red blood. Straight and swift as an arrow, the unknown sped downstream without once coming to the surface. Gradually, the river widened, and the leaf arch above it parted to admit the warm sunshine. The two shorelines diverged and subsided into low-lying levees, becoming rapidly denuded of forest growth as the mysterious submarine creature sped swiftly down the central channel. Another half-league from brackish to salty water, and he would have passed the mouth of the estuary and entered the Atlantic Ocean. But at this point his pace slackened and he deflected his course upward as though to greet the warm sun rising from the vast, white-capped expanse of water toward which he swam. The torpedo-body rose slowly to the surface and a round, pudgy head emerged into the open air, noiselessly and without splash or ripple as though the water had been freshly oiled. A pair of eyes almost buried in blubber and bristles gazed long and wistfully at the open sea. The waves, breaking on the margin of the estuary, seemed to be beckoning. The murmur of their soft voices upon the beaches sounded. Although the unknown looked at the siren waves and listened to their pleading, he merely snorted and shook his head. Not yet. The ocean waves must wait their proper time. His gaze slowly shifted from them to the southwestern border of the estuary. The last land refuge between himself and the broad Atlantic. Two thick flaps on either side of his muzzle lifted and he sucked in mighty breaths of air through widely distended nostrils. Then the nose flaps closed. The round heads settled beneath the waves and the mysterious swimmer disappeared in the depths of the estuary as noiselessly as he had emerged. The southwestern shore of the estuary was sun-swept and bare, in marked contrast to the dark forested banks of its more inland portion, the River of Mystery. It was a place of rocks, the latter rising abruptly from the narrow sandy beach. Also it was a rookery where all manner of water birds made their homes. Two of them, Pafina the gull and Pafina the booby, had flown down from the rookery and were standing side by side upon the sand, watching the ripples which occasionally washed over their webbed feet. Pafina the gull was much the smaller bird, although her wing expanse nigh equaled that of her larger companion. She was a genuine sea-lover, one who flew far out over the water, while Sulla was an ungainly individual, who fancied the ocean merely for the fish that were in it. She really feared the wind and wave, and therefore rarely ventured beyond the side of land. Pafina and Sulla were two of the rookery's most active spirits. They were ardent fisherwomen, too, and nobody could tell them anything new about the finny creatures or any other living things that swam in the sea. They were a restless pair, confirmed gossips and busybodies of the marine feathered world. Although mischievous, nobody could really call them bad birds, for they did little harm and often served many useful purposes, keeping the beaches clear of dead fish and such things. However, their sharp tongues were forever wagging and sometimes caused no end of trouble. At the moment we come upon them, both birds had recently indulged their regular morning fish diet, and now that their appetites were appeased, they seemed in a bad way for something to do. They had stood there upon the beach, inactive for at least five minutes. And that is saying a good deal as far as they are concerned. Pafina was racking her brain for some new form of amusement. Everything is so dreadfully quiet, she whistled. I have half a mind to fly out into the ocean to see what the whales are doing. The sharks are about as far as I'll get, said the booby, but you won't find me skimming the water near them as you do with the whales. They won't have to bite one's feet off if given a chance. The toothed whales are almost as bad, replied Gull. They will eat. She stopped suddenly and said in a low voice, Where did that creature come from? See how it stares at us? Both birds gazed at that which protruded from the water several rods distant. They had been gazing some time in that direction, but the object had appeared an ostentatiously that several moments elapsed before they noticed it. A seal! muttered Sulla. She judged wrongly. Although the round object was a head, it differed greatly from a seal's. The small eyes were almost hidden behind a huge, fleshy muzzle sewn thickly with heavy bristles. This muzzle was split from top to bottom, forming two bulbous halves. The head now rose higher from the water, giving a view in shoulders which were no more than a continuation of the thick round body to which were attached a pair of hand-like flippers. The unknown sat or treaded water with these hand-flippers folded across his chest. In this position he remained motionless staring at the two birds. It was as though the old man of the sea had arisen from the depths to tell of their dark secrets. Sulla and Pafina were almost overcome with surprise. They forgot what their wings and feet were made for and remained rooted to the beach like tree stumps unable to move. And yet it was not fear they felt, rather awe, of the mysterious stranger who had appeared before them so quietly and unheralded. By this time the unknown had set himself in motion and was drifting slowly toward the beach. Now the lower portion of his body grounded in the shallow water and he settled into a horizontal position. Then with much effort he dragged himself up the sand until he was high and dry. Pafina and Sulla watched him in his actions with much interest. He was a water animal as easily could be seen by the fuss he made moving along the sand. His efforts in that respect were attended with much puffing and blowing. Pafina in general was similar to that of a seal and he had flippers too although their detail was peculiar and unsealed like. They looked like hands encased in big mittens. Also the rear part of him was distinctive enough even at a glance to put him in a class by himself. He had no hair, hind limbs or fins of any kind and in this respect he might have passed as a small whale had it not been for his tail. This was attached to his body in true whale style flat to the water not upright as in the sharks and fishes but instead of the broad double bladed fluke worn by all up-to-date whales his tail was as round and flexible as a palm leaf fan. Sulla and Pafina absorbed all of these details while the stranger rested and gazed at them with ponderous dignity. He said nothing and the two birds who were given too much squawking and fluttering on the slightest provocation soon became nervous at his continued oppressive silence. Finally when he closed his eyes as though preparing to doze Sulla could no longer restrain herself. Who? What are you? She asked. The unknown stared somewhere through her and past her. Um he grunted languidly and again closed his eyes. Um squawked Sulla in a rage if there is anything else you can say please say it. To this the stranger showed no resentment whatever. He did not even open his eyes again as he grunted in a deep voice go away and let me sleep. This was the last straw never had Sulla been so exasperated and that is saying a good deal for the petrels and cormorants and pelicans sometimes nearly teased the life out of her. She sprang into the air and flew squawking away without so much as saying goodbye to Pafina who had always been her best friend. The gull was not a little amused at her companion's discomforture. He seems a simple and peaceable sort she thought. I see no reason to be angry with him. If I remain here until he awakens perhaps he will feel more like talking and I can learn more about him. So she waited around for what seemed like an eternity of time. However the unknown awoke at last the first thing he saw was the gull standing within two yards of his nose. Are you hungry? Asked Pafina Now that you have rested how would you like something to eat? This was a sort of hit or miss way of starting a conversation. Perhaps the unknown's generous waist girth suggested it but anyhow it struck home. Eat was his animated response. I certainly will. Where are the feeding grounds? There! answered Pafina gazing toward the ocean. The waters are filled with fish. Fish? I never eat such things. Replied the unknown screwing up his face into a wrinkled knot his eyes rolled wildly and finally came to rest his face crossed over his nose. The two halves of his upper lip parted widely and then came together with a loud swat. Pafina was startled to say the least. Whales, birds, fishes none of the creatures she knew ever made faces like that. Gradually the stranger's expression resumed its former stolidity. He opened his mouth wide thereby displaying a total absence of front teeth and a deep voice. No, I never eat fish. I am a vegetable feeder and prefer seaweed growing green and fresh beneath the waters. Seaweed? Pafina was astonished. No animal she knew of ate such stuff. Her curiosity became overpowering. Who are you? What brought you here? She inquired. What brought me? I heard a voice calling. He said earnestly. It was the same voice that called me to the water when long, long ago I made my home on the land. A land animal? Are you? Were you one? The gall asked. Perhaps. Was the answer delivered dubiously and in tones of deep regret? But the past is done with. Again I hear that voice calling me to go and do it. Go where? Do what? My life has ever been a quiet and simple one. The unknown replied dreamily. Never have I dared venture beyond the rivers dark cramped confines into the vast unknown. But now something urges. The foam topped waves and ocean breezes are calling me. The bite of the sea water makes my blood boil. It was as though a wave of light had swept the darkness away from the gull's eyes. The sea! The sea! She exclaimed joyfully. Now I know how you feel. It means more to me than life itself. You who have known only the warm tasteless river will never return to it once you have lived in the ocean water. Come, I will fly to it and point you the way. The stranger shivered and looked at the sand beneath him. I cannot. I dare not. He mumbled. I seek and yet I dread change. I change for the better, said the gull. You will not want for companions. There may be many there of your own kind. The stranger shuttered and mumbled something unintelligible then began backing toward the water. Pafina saw that he was about to depart. It suddenly occurred to her that in a few moments he would be gone without her learning who or what he was. Your own people may be there, she said. I know most of the ocean dwellers. Are you a seal? Evidently not. For the unknown displayed no interest. He had shifted his position until he floated full length in the shallow water. Well, perhaps. The unknown shook his head. He had now backed to beyond his depth when his body was in an upright position with only its upper body visible. Purpose! The gull fairly screamed and for the third time she aroused no interest. The unknown's nose flaps lifted. In a moment he would be gone. Then who are you? cried the now thoroughly aroused gull. How do you call yourself you who claim to be neither purpose, seal, or will? Tell me quickly before you go. The unknown's nostrils gape wide and sucked in a long deep breath. Then the flaps closed. Manitous! He replied in a low voice and his head slowly sank beneath the surface, leaving not a ripple to mark the spot where it had gone down. End of Section 15 Recording by Dana Patterson of Lexington Park, Maryland Section 16 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Dana Patterson Lexington Park, Maryland Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Manitous! The Merman of the Chesapeake Part 2 Pafina waited for a time upon the beach hoping the mysterious stranger might reappear but in vain. He was gone and for all she knew he might never return. However, she had learned something about him, little as it was and now she was eager to tell her friend Sulla the news. So she flew off high in the heavens until she aspired the booby perched upon a ledge several miles south of the Rookery. Sulla's anger had not cooled in the slightest degree. The gull discovered this as she swooped down and settled upon the rock beside her. I have learned something about this odd creature, said Pafina. His name is Manitous, whatever that means. He eats seaweed, nothing else and he can make the queerest face I ever saw. Sulla said nothing. Her anger still sizzled above the boiling point, however, she kept both ears wide open. I have learned something else too, the gull resumed. He is a freshwater animal who thinks he would like to live in the ocean for some reason or other, he dreads the change. He seems to be a simple and harmless creature, neither porpoise, seal, nor whale. I have an idea, however, that he would get along nicely with the whales, that is, the big ones. I believe I will go and tell them about him. Do, squawks Sulla, they'll smash him with their big tails and I for one will be glad of it. Not if I prepare the way for him, the gull replied. I will tell them that he is a new ruler that will come amongst them. Whales will believe anything. I can easily make them think he is brave and strong, in spite of his harmless appearance. The big whales have grown so accustomed to being bullied by the little toothed ones that his small size will not count against him. But the toothed whales, they do not believe all they see in here, squawk the booby, your friend Manitas will have a hard time with them. They need know nothing about him, said the gull. I will say nothing to them, but the sharks either. That would be carrying the joke too far. I do not wish to see him hurt. If all goes well, it will be great fun and no harm done. Big whales will soon have something to interest him, or I am very much mistaken. You may well be mistaken, thought Sulla as her friend flew away. I detest that Manitas, and if I have my way, he will soon find the sea too hot to hold him. With that, she too flew off, sailing low and far behind the gull, so that the latter would not suspect what she was doing. Pafina winged her way seaward, flying straight and high. She sped over the deep channel of the Chesapeake Bay and reached the outer bar. A broad sandy shoal, whose half-hidden presence could be seen beneath the water from overhead. A broad band of gray extending far to the north and south. It was a barrier over which few large marine animals dared venture. On the land side of the bar to the south, Pafina saw many green fish-like forms thrashing about and cutting the water with their long back fins. These were the sharks, sea wolves in the terror of all finny creatures. Further seaward, numerous small specks darkened the ocean's surface. Far to the north of them was a group of larger specks which to the gull appeared like black blotches among the white-capped waves. The two groups, specks and blotches, were whales playing about upon the ocean's surface. The former were toothed whales, dolphins, sperms, killers and the like. Many of them having long bony snouts after the manner of modern swordfish. Pafina turned from them and swooped down upon the dark blotches farther to the north. These were the toothless or whale bone whales, much larger than the toothed variety but far more peaceable in their habits. The feeling between them and their smaller brethren had grown more or less strained and the two groups had little to do with each other. The toothed whales and dolphins had taken to secret warfare upon others of their kind. Therefore, their less pugnacious relatives had withdrawn from their society. It had not yet occurred to the large whales that their smaller cousins made up with their fierceness what they lacked in size and might soon develop into formidable enemies. A mere slap of a fluked tail would send any one of them to kingdom come. So the big whales thought little about the matter and proceeded to get all the life they could. The toothless or whale bone whales were huge creatures ranging from 40 to 80 feet long. Hundreds of individuals representing more than a score of species were gathered together. Their mouths and heads were enormous, being nearly a third as large as their bodies. They wore no hair covering but thick coats of oily blubber served the same purpose, shutting the seawater from their pores and keeping their bodies warm. They were having a grand time when they landed from on high and skimmed over the waves among them. Every now and then one of them would turn tail up and dive to tremendous depth coming up 20 or 30 minutes later for a breath of fresh air. Although shaped somewhat like fishes, they were not fishes but mammals, the same as horses and cows, having real lungs instead of gills. They would have drowned miserably had they stayed too long beneath the water. Their nostrils were small holes high upon their heads but it was astonishing how quickly they could empty their lungs through them and take in a fresh air supply. It was surprising too how long their breath sufficed but they had lived long in the ocean and grown used to it with continued practice. Pafina skimmed in and out over them like a fly among a herd of cows. Finally she caught sight of Belina and singled her out as the one first to hear the news. Belina was a bow fin, the largest whale bone whales. Her upper jaws were lined with baleen or rows of fringed food strainers instead of teeth. She was at lunch as Pafina came upon her and so the gull had a fine opportunity to learn just how the toothless whale fed itself. Belina moved slowly through the water with a greater part of her body submerged and her mouth wide open. It was a tremendous mouth large enough to hold about a million of the tiny shellfish that swarmed near the ocean's surface. When enough of them were inside of it to make it worth her while she closed her jaws together rolled over on her side and shifted her tongue. That shift of the tongue ejected the water from her mouth but not the tiny shellfish. They were held back by the baleen food strainers and then swallowed at leisure. Pafina was on good terms with the big whale and often flew out to sea to pass the time of day with her. After circling several times over her upon Belina's head, in a few words she told of her meeting with the mysterious manatees who lived in the water, breathed air and ate nothing but seaweed. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she added. The ocean has never known a creature so fierce and strong although ordinarily he appears so calm and good nature that none would suspect how formidable he really is. He will soon appear in the ocean to rule over it. Belina was amazed. She hastily gulped down a million shellfish with a speed that almost choked her. She gasped so with astonishment that the gull was fairly drenched with damp spray spouting from the whale's forehead nose holes. A stranger come to rule over us, cried Belina. Indeed I am amazed. Fierce and strong you say? Oh! But calm and good natured ordinarily that's better. I detest quarrels some animals. You may be certain he will find us peaceable enough. It is too wonderful and interesting to believe. Now you must excuse me while I tell my people this remarkable news. So saying with a whisk of her mighty tail she was darting about among her people leaving the gull to fly back home again. Come you both fins she bellowed. Come you humpbacks and bottle noses and all the rest of you. Belina has come bringing grand and glorious news. And then great was the commotion that ensued. The water churned and foamed beneath fluke and flipper stroke as the huge monsters crowded about their big leader. Finally all were quieted down sufficiently to hear what Belina had to say. A royal stranger named Manatus has come to rule over the ocean. She cried. We must make ready to welcome him. Who is he? asked one. Not a savage creature I hope said another. Who is he? I know not replied Belina but the gull says he is a weed eater one who feeds upon green things cannot be savage. The gull tells me he can be calm and good natured as well as fierce and strong. One of that kind would be welcome here said one of the both fins. Welcome more than that Belina grunted. We should hunt him out so that he need not come amongst us alone. A most excellent idea all were agreed on that. Nobody could say that they were lacking in the courtesy and respect due one of royal station. They would treat the stranger in a manner befitting his exalted rank even though they risked grounding themselves upon the sandbar doing it. In the meantime Pafina had flown back to the rookery. Her prank was successfully launched. More than that for unknown to her they were taken time by the forelock and were already pushing matters on their own account. The royal stranger was hovering about the mouth of the estuary so the gull had said which meant that somebody must go to him across the shoals. Two of the smallest and boldest whales were selected for the task. Being of comparatively light draft it was judged very cleverly by all that they stood the best chance of crossing the bar in safety. Once over they were to find the mysterious return with him. The two unvoiced set their faces bravely shoreward and their courage was rewarded by taking advantage of occasional cross lifts they crossed the bar and reached the bay without mishap. Once there they kept on until they neared the mouth of the estuary. They were patrolling the waters when suddenly the round head of some strange animal bobbed up above the waves. As they swam toward it the head sank from sight. Of course royalty must not be unduly urged there was plenty of time so the two whales halted over where the head had vanished and waited patiently for its reappearance. End of Section 16 Recording by Dana Patterson Lexington Park, Maryland Section 17 of Stories of the First American Animals This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Dana Patterson Lexington Park, Maryland Stories of the First American Animals by George Langford Manitus, the Merman of the Chesapeake Part 3 While Pafina was busying herself with the big whale bone whales Sula sought their tooth cousins. The goal meant only to play a harmless prank but Sula was in deadly earnest. The stranger had wounded her deeply and she was determined to more than even matters. He might get hurt, even killed by all his own fault and whatever happened to him would arouse none of her sympathy. The tooth whales were a very different sort from their larger relatives. Rarely did they take things for granted. They were in the habit of investigating and seeing with their own eyes before they would believe anything told them. Sula did not fly down close to them as did Pafina when visiting the toothless whales. She was not ready to be eaten just yet. So she flew in circles about the herd close overhead but beyond the reach of any that might choose to snap at her. There were a great many of them blunt-nose killers and grampuses block-headed sperms beaked dolphins and the like. Sula scarcely knew where to begin. Suddenly a long narrow head rose above the water. It was that of Squalidon, the king whale. Sula halted in mid-air and hung fluttering over him. Look out for yourself you footless alligator. She squawked. A stranger is coming to rule the ocean and unless you behave he will not let you stay in it. Now Squalidon was not an alligator. Although at a distance he did look a bit like one. Sula called him that because she knew it was the quickest way to make him angry. Squalidon was angered by the insult but the news he heard aroused him even more. A stranger, ruler he bellowed. Who? Where is he? Wait and see. The bird taunted him. His name is Manatus and he eats seaweed. How grand it will be to have the ocean ruled by an eater of weeds. I can see you all jumping around to do as bitten. Squalidon ground his teeth. Their serrated crowns projected in ragged lines from his four jaws. He was a flesh eater as all whales were and flesh and vegetable eaters were inclined to think harshly of each other. It was bad enough to have new rulers continually bobbing up. But that the latest should be a weed eater was almost too much to be endured. He won't rule over me, roared the king whale. Anyhow he will have to fight first and you won't find much of him left when I finish with him. When is he coming? Squalidon was not large but his long life body could cleave and turn in the water with marvelous quickness. Also his was a quarrelsome nature that was ever eager for a fight. Ah, but you won't see him for long time, mocked the booby. He intends visiting with the big whales first. Probably they will want to keep him with them and away from you little fellows. With this parting shot she flew shoreward. Mad Squalidon lashed himself into a perfect frenzy and when he told the other whales about the stranger they too went wild tearing around in the ocean until it resembled a kettle of boiling fish. Sula continued her flight. One would think that she had already stirred up trouble enough. But she had her own ideas about that. The sharks too must be put in a proper frame of mind. She could now see them beneath her swimming on the shore side of the bar. So she swooped down to have a word with them. Chara, queen of the sharks, was gliding lazily along the ocean's surface and Sula accosted her. Chara was a 40 foot damsel of the white shark or sea tiger variety. Her jaws bristled with large triangular teeth. Her neck was scarred with long vertical slits. Six on each side. These were her gills, a portion of her breathing apparatus. Like all other sharks she had no scales although her skin was harsher than sandpaper. She was queen of the sharks being bigger, stronger and fiercer than any of the others. She had the most effective bite, which counted for a great deal. As for size, she looked more like a whale than a shark. A man, had there been such a thing, could have stood comfortably in her open mouth. Comfortably provided the good queen did not take a sudden notion to close her jaws. Rarely did any rival venture to dispute Chara's mastery over the sharks. She had a naive and peculiar way of dealing with such disputers and simple too, which consisted of swallowing them, bag and baggage. This invariably settled the matter and did away with long-winded argument. Lovely day! squawked Sula as she circled around the fierce monster. I hope you have eaten and rested well. Not enough to satisfy me! snapped the sea-tigers. You might oblige me by coming closer. I did not fly here to be eaten by you! replied the booby. I merely wished you to know that the ocean is soon to have a new ruler. I have heard of them before, sneered the big shark, but somehow the expected never happens. I have not seen one yet that made more than a mouthful. But this one will surprise you, replied Sula. His name is Manatus. The ocean has never seen a creature so fierce and strong. It hasn't, eh? Well, I'm used to rivals and I guess this one won't worry me any more than others I have swallowed. You will think differently when you see this Manatus. Sula retorted. He is the most dashing creature that ever wore fins. He has taken a particular fancy to you, so I am told. To me, Char became all attention. What does he want? A fight? Hardly that, was the answer. However, wait and see, he is liable to do almost anything. He is bold and so fond of sharks, without telling what might happen. Char smirked and wriggled like an eel. What could happen? She giggled. As for sharks, I guess I am enough to interest him. Her mouth gaped wide and a cavernous smile. She was experiencing a new and delightful sensation. Sula could scarcely conceal her amusement. She was having more fun than she had bargained for. Char was not only blessed with a temperament but had an exalted idea of her own personal charms. She may have been warranted from her point of view, but the booby could see nothing about her that might be considered attractive or wholesome. You have already interested in him? said Sula with a twinkle of her fishy eyes. Just to show how bold and dashing he is, he plans to visit the sharks and carry off their queen. Me? gasped the astonished sea-tigers. Why, how dare he say such a thing, the rascal. I'll slap him with my fin if he tries it. Char strove to assume an air of offended dignity but failed miserably, for she was a maiden shark and the news that she was soon to figure in an abduction put her in a seventh heaven of delight. Leave this manatees to me, she said coyly. I can take care of myself and him too, so you need not worry. Sula's task was now completed. So she flew back to the rookery and perched high upon the rocks to watch and await developments. And now to return to our hero the mysterious stranger of the Upper River. After parting with the gull on the southwestern shore of the estuary, Manatees lost no time hunting up suitable feeding grounds. No vegetation was to be found upon the sandy bottom of the estuary, so he plucked up courage and swam into the bay. Its chill and salt bite exhilarated him. He dove deeply to the bottom and found to his great delight that it was a veritable sea undergrowth of luscious weeds. Before lunching, he rose to the surface to renew his air supply. Here he sat upright, viewing the endless expanse of white-capped waves. This was his first intimate acquaintance with the ocean itself, and it impressed him deeply. Far from discouraging him, its cold green vastness was a wide world, but when in the midst of other animals it was different. He was shy, dreadfully, painfully shy, and he had lived so long in seclusion that the very thought of mingling with other creatures was almost more than he could bear. But now he was alone and in an endless expanse of delightful ocean. He gazed scornfully behind him, no more of that stinking Upper River and waited from fresh to salt water, and was venturing forth to find fame and fortune in the sea. The world loves a stout heart and ventures some spirit. From that moment, Manitus was to be reckoned with as a power in the briny deep. These were not exactly the words he would have used to express his feelings at that moment, but he admitted to himself that what he now felt and saw was even better than he had expected. His rebellious had been kept waiting, so once more he dove to the ocean bottom and glided over it, fanning the weed tops into his mouth with his split upper lip. Finally, when he was full and could eat no more, he swam to the surface, vowing that never had he so enjoyed himself. As his head emerged into the open air he shook the water from it, brushed his lip bristles with his flippers and was about to inhale a fresh air supply for an underwater exploring trip with a slight noise behind him. He turned quickly, blinked and gasped with astonishment for two huge creatures were floating beside him. Are you Manitus? Ask one. Was all our hero could say for a moment? He was wondering how the stranger had learned his name. Not a soul had he spoken to in that neighborhood except two silly birds. Yes, I am Manitus. He finally admitted and was looking about him for a way to escape when the second stranger spoke. We are whales, he said most humbly. We are pleased to have found your highness and now beg you to come with us. Your highness Manitus stared like one in a trance. All a mistake, he stammered. You mean someone else? Go with you? No, I won't go anywhere with anybody. No mistake. For you have said that you are the noble Manitus. The other insisted. Your fame has reached the ocean world. Our people are assembled there eager and waiting to do you honor. Manitus glanced at the pair suspiciously. No, they were not joking. It was easy to see that. His head or something within it whirled so that he could scarcely think. He must be a person of extraordinary importance. For these whales insisted he was. It was also confusing and yet he felt a thrill of pleasure at being welcomed so wholeheartedly by these big-sea animals. Perhaps he had misjudged himself. In his self-enforced seclusion he had failed to appreciate the latent power within him. He raised his head proudly and strove to appear every inch a king he threw out his chest, assumed his grandest air and gazed loftily at the two whales, now his humble vassals. How known he was how noble he looks. One of the pair said in a low voice to the other. Manitus wilted. They were whispering to one another. A wave of timidity almost overwhelmed him. No, I will not go with you. he grunted with a shake of his head. I know neither of you nor your whales. Leave me and depart in peace. Impossible was the answer. It is death for us to return without your majesty. We beg. We implore you to come. Your majesty, another title. Manitus felt thrills one after another chasing up and down his spine. His spirits rose again. These whales seemed well-meaning and harmless enough. He dreaded social gatherings, but that feeling was more a habit than the result of experience. He had lived alone too long. Even he realized that. Now was the time for him to emerge and he could rid himself of his dreadful shyness, but his vanity was already deeply touched and he was becoming rapidly inflated with his own importance. Where are your people? he demanded pompously. In the ocean, beyond the sandbar was the reply. They dare not cross it for fear of being stranded. If you will but follow, we will guide you safely through to the deeper water. Manitus paused. He stood up upon the brink and straining his nerve to make the plunge. Fame and power awaited him. Behind him was the old life. Before him the new. He stole one last furtive look at the two whales. They awaited his pleasure in deferential silence. No amount of pleading and coaxing could have influenced him more than did their impressive dignity as they floated restfully in the green, watery vastness. The shy whisper of protest came hushed, the spirit of daring triumph, and he plunged boldly and blindly into the great unknown. Very well. Lead and I will follow. He combed his lip-bristles with his flippers, settled into a horizontal position, chest to the waves, and swam seaward with the whale escorting him on either side. The salt water was cold and invigorating. The further he swam the better he liked it. He quickened his pace and try as they would the two whales closely keep up with him. A mighty swimmer said one. A marvel of daring added the other. Take care, noble master, or you will come to grief upon the shoals. Manetus heard his remarks. His head was in the clouds. What of that? he grunted, and with a devil make-hair air, shoals, huh, I can climb over them if I have to. The whales gasped. Never was known such recklessness. Manetus might endeavor to mask an atmosphere of timidity, but he could not deceive them. They knew a real king when they saw one. However, there was no need of our heroes showing his skills at climbing over bars. A cross-riff opened before him and he swam through into the open sea. The ocean surface before him was dotted with black moving objects. Manetus slowed as he caught sight of them. What are they? he inquired anxiously. The whales, one of his companions explained, they are gathered together awaiting your highness. Waiting to see me? Oh! Manetus lost his boldness in an instant, as he realized that soon he would be facing a lot of strangers. His brain became befuddled. He would have turned tail and sped back to where he came from, but he was so confused that he lost all sense of direction. While he hesitated, the distant herd began swimming in his direction. The watchen had caught sight of him. What huge things they are! He stammered in an agony of doubt. Are they all whales? Everyone was to reply. Will they bite me? No, they would not and they could not if they would. None of them have teeth. No teeth? Manetus recovered his composure. He made so bold as to indulge in a bit of ponderous humor. Whales! He snorted. Why, they are nothing but big fish. Not so loud one of his companions cautioned him, for the oncoming herd was already within hearing distance. They are not fish and would be offended if they heard you say so. Then why do they live in the water? It is a long story and there is not time to tell it now, was the reply. We whales were once land animals, but we loved the sea water that our hind legs shriveled up and we could no longer use them. There was nothing left for us to do but to take to the water and stay there. Why, that is my case exactly! said the surprised Manetus. He began to think that either he was a whale or would soon become one. But now he forgot all about everything for the herd was crowding about him and he had no more time to think. They were gigantic creatures and there were so many of them that Manetus was suddenly overwhelmed with fear and wished himself safely out of the whole mess. His eyes crossed and the two halves of his upper lip flapped wildly from side to side. Astonishing result! The whales in their turn became frightened and backed water in great confusion. What poise! How fierce he looks! These and similar explanations resounded on all sides. He glanced at those before him so graciously that the big whales felt entirely reassured and hurried forward to pay their respects. It was evident that none of them intended to hurt him. Manetus began to enjoy the fuss they were making over him. He had even made up his mind that he had found his proper place in life at last. He was having a busy and delightful time of it when, to his consternation, he saw a mass of dark figures coming from the south. It was another herd bearing down upon him. The big whales turned and faced the newcomers. Manetus could see by their behavior that they were not at all pleased with the new arrivals. The latter came on until they almost touched noses with the toothless whales. And meanwhile our hero sat upright in the water, hemmed in between the opposing forces and cut off from all escape. Swoosh! Manetus formed darted from the ranks of the new arrivals and planted itself in front of Manetus. It was Squalidon, and his companions were the toothed whales. Manetus scented trouble, and his spirits instantly collapsed like a bursted bubble. Cold chills crept over him as Squalidon set himself in motion, swimming around and under him, and meanwhile looking him over as a farmer does when about to buy a mule. The big whales observed this display of rudeness in breathless silence. Squalidon paid no attention to them. Having completed his tour of inspection, he again took up his position in front of Manetus. The latter's last remnant of courage was now absolutely and completely gone. The big whales had backed away until Manetus was given a glimpse of the distant shore so distant that it appeared like a thin gray line. Squalidon was eyeing him slowly, a wicked fishy grin was upon his face. And so this is the mighty Manetus, he muttered in tones of biting sarcasm. It is said that he has come from nobody knows where and that all sea creatures must bow before him. However I am not so sure that he possesses the strength and courage to make good his claim. The words of the king whales sounded like a challenge. All eyes turned upon Manetus. The latter's heart sank within him. He trembled like a frightened child. Squalidon opened his mouth wide displaying all of his serried teeth. Unless I am much mistaken, we have met before. He snapped viciously. I can assure you that my liking for you has not improved since then. Where are your hind legs? You seem to have hidden them well but you cannot deceive me, you miserable landlubber as the ruler of the sea. Manetus almost collapsed. It was with a courage born of stupidity and desperation that he blurted out, landlubber yourself. You would be crawling around on the mudflats even now if your hind legs had not shriveled up. Squalidon's face became convulsed with rage. With an effort he restrained himself. Silence, fool! He screamed. Then, addressing his comrades, he delivered himself to a torrent of verbal abuse such as Manetus had never before listened to. Take a good look at this sniveling sand puppy one and all of you. He cried, Your eyes grow dim or you would surely recognize him. Do you remember in the old days when we floundered upon the mudbanks? How we warred upon the herds of vegetable eaters that trampled our grass and dirtied our waters. None of them dared follow when we left the land forever in the homes in the open sea. But now he paused for an instant and glared ferociously at the unfortunate Manetus. The latter had none to help him. For the big toothless whales, although anxious and interested spectators, were too timid to force an issue with their smaller but fiercer relatives. Manetus was now desperate and thoroughly aware of his own imminent peril. Almost imperceptibly he backed water. Setting himself for a dash to the sandbar, whose surface, laid bare by the ebbing tide, showed faintly in the distance. The voice of the king whale again grated harshly in his ears. But now one of them has dared and more, cried the infiriated squalidon. He, an eater of weeds, would rule the ocean dwellers. He is but our slave of the old days, I tell you, a slave posing as our master. Death to the skulker and weed eater, death to Manetus the seacow! Splash! Manetus dove with the quickness of a lightning bolt and was gone. After him sponged squalidon and the nimblest of the toothed whales. Away sped the seacow straight and swift as an arrow. His breath and direction calculated to reach the bar with a single dive. His sluggishness cast from him, he was like a bird in its element, shooting through the water with the swiftness of a rifle bullet. But the seawater was new to him and his pursuers were close behind. It was a long, heartbreaking dash with his air supply rapidly becoming exhausted, but he kept desperately on. Suddenly the rising ocean bottom touched his chest and the dim light above him brightened through the greenish haze. He made a last spurt and shot up the inclined verge of the bar. While behind him, his enemies thrashed and floundered in the perilous shallows which they had failed to take note of in the excitement of the chase. Once safely clear of the toothed whales, Manitis dragged his weary body over the sand to the deeper water. He was desperately tired, but this was no time for resting. Squaladan and his herd might come at any moment through one of the cross rifts and cut off his escape to the mainland. Manitis took a long breath and dove deeply. He was making good progress showered when suddenly a host of lithe, fish-like forms loomed in the translucent depths before him. His escape was cut off. He stopped swimming, believing himself lost. He rose to the ocean's surface and bowed his head meekly. The fish-like forms arose with him. No use struggling further against fate. So he closed his eyes, covered his face with his flippers and calmly awaited the end. End of Section 17. Recording by Dana Patterson, Lexington Park, Maryland.