Away he paddled to the bottom and tried to munch the water-grasses. His few teeth were cutting through his gums by this time, and he was hungry for something besides milk. The green leaves tasted so salty and stringy that he did not like them at first. It was easier to suck warm, rich milk, without needing to chew and chew till his jaws really ached.
One night the manatees lay down on the clean sand, folded their flippers under them, and closed their eyes. They fell fast asleep. Now one and now another woke to swim to the top for a good long breath. About mid-night the old mother suddenly felt a chill stealing through the water. She shivered all over, and hurried to wake the others. She knew that cold weather had come. If they did not take care they would all catch cold and die.
So away they started, as fast as they could paddle, down the river to the sea. Then south along the shore they travelled to find warmer waters. They kept so near land that they could hear the waves breaking on the beach. The ocean washed to and fro in swinging billows over their heads. When the baby lifted his head above the surface, bits of foam blew in his eyes from the curling crests of the waves.
Down below, where the old ones stopped to munch the seaweeds, he saw wonderful things. There were starfish crawling along with their five rays spread out. There were transparent jellyfishes, with long threads streaming down from their quivering bodies. There were mussels in their hinged shells lying on the bottom. There were sponges growing on the rocks. There were trees of branching coral, each tiny coral animal waving the fringe around its open mouth.
Of course there were fishes—hundreds and hundreds of them—flashing everywhere. Once a fat porpoise came rolling and tumbling through the shallow water. He was a mammal, and belonged to the same group as the whales. When he was a baby he fed on milk, just in the same way as the little manatee and all other mammals.
On and on travelled the manatees toward the warm south seas, now swimming on swiftly, now stopping to munch the weeds. Sometimes they stood on the tips of their tails and nodded their heads as if bowing. Sometimes they folded their flippers under them to sleep, then woke to breathe, and fall asleep again.
After days and days they reached the southern river, where they were to spend the winter. There they found another family of manatees with a little one just the size of the baby. While the old ones munched the weeds, or dozed on the mud islands, the two youngest slid down the slippery banks and splashed and dived together. They took naps side by side. Sometimes they tried to balance themselves on their tails, as the old ones did.
This southern river was different from that one at home. The plants had broader leaves and larger flowers. The swamp was tangled and shadowy even at noonday. Strange animals tramped through the underbrush; monkeys swung on the branches, and brightly-colored birds flew overhead. Hairy spiders crawled over the ground, and big snakes wriggled into the water.