he had me. It was an awful smile, and I don't
like to remember it often, even now, and that was ever so long ago, as
much as three hundred and fourteen or fifteen years, this spring.

"Well, when I saw Old Man Moccasin at that close distance, and smiling
in that glad way, and his spectacles shining, because he was so pleased
at the prospect, I said to myself, I'm gone now, for certain, unless
something happens right off; though, of course, I didn't see how
anything _could_ happen, placed as I was. But just as I said those
words, something did happen--and about the last thing I would have
expected. The first I saw was a big shadow, and the first I heard was a
kind of swish in the air, and the first I knew I wasn't in the water any
more, but was on the way to the sky with Mr. Eagle, who had one great
claw around my hind leg and another hooked over my shell, not seeming to
mind my weight at all, and paying no attention to Old Man Moccasin, who
was beating his tail on the water and calling Mr. Eagle bad names and
threatening him with everything he could think of. I didn't know where
I was going, and couldn't see that I was much better off than before,
but I did enjoy seeing Old Man Moccasin carry on about losing me, and I
called a few things to him that didn't make him feel better. I said Mr.
Eagle and I were good friends, and asked him how he liked the trick we
had played on him. I even sang out to him:

"'Old Man Moccasin,
See you by and by;
Mr. Eagle's teaching me
How to learn to fly.'

which was a poem, and about the only one I ever made, but it seemed to
just come into my head as we went sailing along. Mr. Eagle, he heard it,
too, and said:

"'Look here,' he said, 'what are you talking about? You don't think you
could ever learn to fly, I hope?'

"'Why, yes, Mr. Eagle,' I said, 'if I just had somebody like you to give
me a few lessons. Of course, nobody could ever fly as well as you can,
but I'm sure I could learn to fly some.'

"Then I thanked him for having saved me from Old Man Moccasin, and said
how kind he was, and told him how my folks had always told us what a
great bird Mr. Eagle was--so strong and grand, and the best flyer in the
world--and how we must always admire and respect him and not get in his
way, and how I thought if I could only fly a little--perhaps about as
much as a hen--I could keep from being caught by Old Man Moccasin, which
was the worst