He swooped down upon the boys like an eagle, and while his great wings flounced about their ears, he shrieked in a terrible voice, “Go to the devil!”
The boys gave a yell and threw themselves down upon the ground. When they presently ventured to look up again, all was still and deserted as before. Far away, a solitary blackbird winged to the westward.
But till they grew to be men—aye, even to their dying day—they were firmly convinced that the Evil One himself had appeared to them out on the black morass, in the form of a monstrous black bird with eyes of fire.
But it was only an old raven, flying westward to unearth a sow’s ear which it had buried.
“HOPE’S CLAD IN APRIL GREEN.”
“You’re kicking up the dust!” cried Cousin Hans.
Ola did not hear.
“He’s quite as deaf as Aunt Maren,” thought Hans. “You’re kicking up the dust!” he shouted, louder.
“Oh, I beg your pardon!” said Cousin Ola, and lifted his feet high in air at every step. Not for all the world would he do anything to annoy his brother; he had too much on his conscience already.