e air with screaming whistles; but what interested
the youngster robins still more were the other birds. Far above, and as
far as could be seen on either side, the air seemed alive with them.
There were crows, and thrushes, and flickers, and birds of many other
kinds. Large birds, small birds, big birds, and little birds. Black and
brown and gray and blue and yellow and red, and birds of all colors in
between.

Flying so high that they could not be seen from the earth, it looked to
the youngster robins as if all the birds in the world were going south
for the winter. Robins, robins, everywhere! Hundreds of them flying in
little family groups or mingled together in great flocks. Robert Robin
kept saying, "Kirk! Kirk!" so that none of the children would get lost.

"Keep close to your father, children!" said Mrs. Robin. "If you should
ever get lost in this crowd, we could no more find you again than we
could find Jim Crow on a dark night!"

A flock of wild geese called from overhead, and frightened little
Sheldon very much. They were such big birds; flying close together,
their powerful wings driving their heavy bodies swiftly through the air.
Their hoarse-voiced leader honked his loud calls as he led the line,
which, straight and true as a file of drilled soldiers, sweeping in
perfect formation a half mile on either side, was so different from
anything that little Sheldon had ever seen that the little robin
screamed, "Help! Help! Help! There comes a row of fat hawks!"

"Those are wild geese and they will not hurt you, child!" said Robert
Robin.

"What makes them fly so close together?" asked little Sheldon.

"They came from where the fog banks roll over the ice of the north!"
said Robert Robin, "and they have learned to fly closely together so
that they will not get lost from each other in the fogs."

The swift-winged geese were traveling much faster than the robins, and
soon they were far ahead of Robert Robin and his family.

"Why do they fly so fast?" asked Evelina.

"They have far to go!" answered Robert Robin, "and they must hurry or
they will be late in getting there!"

"There is our White Spring!" shouted Mrs. Robin. "Let us stop there a
while and get some new sand for our crops!"

So Robert Robin led his family down to the White Spring.

White Spring was a tiny little spring which gushed from the shady side
of a glen. There were no houses nor other buildings near, and very few
people knew that there