Behind them a hysterical crowd of females shrieked, cackled, and plucked their disheveled feathers. Wives and morganatic mates, who in the past had been ready to peck each other's eyes out, now wept on each other's wing in sympathy. Hens who had always been most careful of their reputations, cried: "Oh, my Clarence!" One poor thing was so overcome that she laid an egg before assistance could be brought her.
Through the midst of this frantic crowd Bertram, the swan, pinioned his way, remarking coolly:
"I see no reason for becoming excited. The Monster won't go into the pond. Any bird's perfectly safe there."
"But we can't swim!"
"Then you should have learned. Come, Gwendolyn; let us withdraw from this unseemly confusion."
And together the swans swept down the bank into the water.
"They all think only of themselves!" thought Eustace sadly.
"Hurry, Johnnie! Don't stop to peck at that!" called a Guinea hen to the straggler of her brood. "See how far ahead of us Papa is!"
"What! Surely you're not deserting!" cried the drake.
None of the Guinea caravan paused to answer, but set out across the field as fast as they could scoot.