Sammy Jay's eyes sparkled as he watched that spot of green under the
pile of brush in the swamp through which the Laughing Brook finds its
way to join the Big River. All around was water, for you know it was
spring, and the melting snows on the hills way up where the Big River
has its beginning were pouring more water into the Big River than
its banks would hold as it hurried down to the Great Ocean. It just
couldn't hurry fast enough to take all that water down as fast as it
ran into the Big River, and so the water had crept over the banks in
places. It had done this right here in the little swamp where Sammy was.
Sammy sat perfectly still, for he learned long ago that only by keeping
perfectly still may one see all that is to be seen. That green spot
had moved. He was sure of that. And if it moved, it must be something
alive. If it were alive, it must be somebody, and Sammy wanted to know
who it was. Try as he would he couldn't remember any one who wore such
glossy green as that. So he sat perfectly still, for he knew that if
whoever was hiding under that brush should even guess that he was being
watched, he would not come out.
So, his eyes sparkling with excitement, Sammy watched. He was
impatiently patient. Did you know that it is possible to be impatiently
patient? Well, it is. Sammy was just boiling with impatience inside,
but he didn't let that impatience spoil the patience of his waiting.
He sat there just as still as still, with his eyes fixed on that green
spot, and you would never have guessed that he was fairly bursting with
impatience to know who it was he was watching. That is what is called
self-control. It means the power to make yourself do a certain thing,
no matter how much you may want to do something else. It is a splendid
thing to have, is self-control.
After what seemed to Sammy a very long time, the green spot moved
again. Little by little something reached out from under the pile of
brush. It was a head, a very beautiful green head, and it was exactly
like Mrs. Quack's head, only hers was a sober brown instead of green.
Sammy choked back a little gasp of surprise as a sudden thought popped
into his head. Could this be the lost Mr. Quack? He had forgotten that
probably Mr. Quack dressed differently from Mrs. Quack, and so of
course he had been looking for some one all in brown. There was the
bang of a gun somewhere over on the Big River, and the green head was
hastily withdrawn under the bush, but not before Sammy had seen a look
of terrible fear in his eyes. “I believe it _is_ Mr. Quack!” thought
Sammy. “If it is, I'll have the best news ever to tell Mrs. Quack. Just
trust Sammy Jay to find anything he goes looking for.”
This was just plain boasting, and Sammy knew it. But Sammy always does
have a good opinion of himself. It is one of his faults. He quite lost
sight of the fact that it was entirely by accident that he had come
over to this swamp. Now that he had guessed who this might be, he was
less impatient. He waited as still as you please, and at last the green
head was slowly stretched out again, and Sammy could see that the neck
was green, too, and that around the neck was a white collar. Sammy
could keep still no longer.
[Illustration: “Yes,” said he in a low voice, “I am Mr. Quack.”]
“Are you Mr. Quack?” he asked eagerly.
The beautiful head disappeared like a flash. Sammy waited a minute or
two, before he repeated his question, adding: “You needn't be afraid.
There isn't anybody here but me, and I'm your friend. I just want to
know if you are Mr. Quack because I've been looking for you for Mrs.
Quack. Are you?”
Slowly, looking this way and that way with fear and suspicion in his
eyes, a handsome Duck came out from under the pile of brush. “Yes,”
said he in a low voice, “I am Mr. Quack. Where is Mrs. Quack?”
“Safe and sound over on the Big River,” replied Sammy joyfully. “Oh,
I'm so glad I've found you!”