The deep grasses almost hid them from view, but the little people who lived there saw them, and it was with great surprise that their friends turned from their feeding and pluming and bathing to exclaim over this sudden arrival.
There were Mr. and Mrs. Wild Duck, and their beautiful brood of little ones, and there were many of Mrs. Prairie Chicken's family, as well as crowds and crowds of little Redbirds and many of the handsome Kingfishers, all chattering at once over an ample breakfast table. For there was a solid growth of wild celery around this lake, a bed of plants so dense that it was for all the world like the heaviest moss. And of all things beloved by the wild fowl, this juicy and spicy celery is the favorite.
The leader of the newcomers looked about him. That was the first thing for him to do, under all circumstances; for he was the oldest and the wisest of the flock and as a watchman he was sagacious beyond all others in his family. While his mate and all the others fell to tearing at the tender shoots of celery, scarcely paying attention to anything but their voracious appetites, he was standing with head erect and eyes turning in all directions to be sure of no untoward sign. He could see and even scent danger a long way off.
Apparently he was satisfied for the moment, for he fell to and nibbled as the rest were doing, with his head almost buried in the rich tangle of celery. And as he progressed in his feasting, he came closer and closer to the edge of the lake, until suddenly he was just above a nest that lay almost entirely hidden from view.
It was the home of little Mrs. Grebe, the very handsomest and the shyest of the people dwelling here. She was right there by her nest of sticks, which literally floated on the water, and her shining neck of velvety feathers and her brown and silvery body were strikingly beautiful in contrast to the deep green of the rushes and reeds.
"Why, my dear friend!" the noble Wild Goose exclaimed. "How you surprised me! Though of course I knew you lived here. This is not the first year we have visited this place, by any means, and yet, when we flew North last spring and stopped here I do not remember seeing you."
"Oh, Mr. Goose," came in quick reply, "you can't imagine the misfortunes that have overtaken me; and it was on their account that I was not here in the early summer when you passed over."
With that Mrs. Grebe hung her dainty head, which was beautifully tufted about the ears, giving her the look of wearing a jaunty cap.
"I am the Widow Grebe," was all she could say.
Mr. Goose dried his eyes by rubbing them on his snowy breast. For, although he was a stern old gander, he had the most melting heart for the sad plight of widows and orphans.