er alarm, and
follows her example, and in two seconds it's gone all about the place
that you're not a stump or a stone or a harmless dead thing waiting to
be nibbled at, but a terrible enemy lying in wait for them all. So you
see how important it is to keep still, with the real stillness of dead
things."

The Child winked his eyes rapidly. "But I can't keep from _winking_,
Uncle Andy," he protested. "I'll promise not to wiggle my fingers or
wrinkle my nose. But if I don't wink my eyes sometimes they'll begin
to smart and get full of tears, and then I won't be able to see
anything--and then all the keeping still will be just wasted."

"Of course, you won't be able to keep from winking," agreed Uncle Andy.
"And, of course, you won't be able to keep from _breathing_. But you
mustn't make a noise about either process."

"How can I make a noise winking?" demanded the Child in a voice of
eager surprise. If such a thing were possible he wanted to learn how
at once.

"Oh, nonsense!" returned Uncle Andy. "Now, listen to me! We're nearly
there, and I don't want to have to do any more talking, because the
quieter we are now the sooner the wild folk will get over their first
suspiciousness. Now, after we once get fixed, you won't move a muscle,
not even if two or three mosquitoes alight on you at once and begin to
help themselves?"

"No!" agreed the Child confidently. He was accustomed to letting
mosquitoes bite him, just for the fun of seeing their gray, scrawny
bodies swell up and redden till they looked like rubies.

"Well, we'll hope there won't be any mosquitoes!" said Uncle Andy
reassuringly. "And if a yellow-jacket lights on your sock and starts
to crawl up under the leg of your knickers, you won't stir?"

"N-no!" agreed the Child, with somewhat less confidence. He had had
such an experience before, and remembered it with a pang. Then he
remembered that he had enough string in his pockets to tie up both legs
so securely that not the most enterprising of wasps could get under.
His confidence returned. "No, Uncle Andy!" he repeated, with earnest
resolution.

"Umph! We'll see," grunted Uncle Andy doubtfully, not guessing what
the Child had in mind. But when he saw him, with serious face, fish
two bits of string from the miscellaneous museum of his pocket and
proceed to frustrate the problematical yellow-jacket he grinned
appreciatively.

The place for the watching had been well chosen by Uncle Andy--