The Trumpet of the Swan: Chapters 17–21

One day, about a week before Christmas, a great storm came up. The sky grew dark. The wind blew a howling gale.

The waters of Bird Lake were ruffled by the strong, mighty wind, and for a while the lake looked like a small ocean.

In a moment it splashed down and flopped ashore, where it lay sprawled out, almost as if it were dead.

When morning came, the wind subsided. The skies cleared. The lake grew calm. The storm was over.

Through the power of music, I will impress her with the intensity of my desire and the strength of my devotion.

Toward the end of the afternoon, Serena roused herself, looked at her surroundings, had a bite to eat, took a bath, then walked out of the water and stood for a long while preening her feathers.

She felt distinctly better.

And when her feathers were all smoothed out, she looked extremely beautiful—stately, serene, graceful, and very feminine.

When he looked under the bush, he received a terrible jolt: his medal was there, his slate and chalk pencil were there, his moneybag was there, but where was the trumpet?

He was frantic with anger and fear and dismay.

He was frantic with anger and fear and dismay.

He skimmed down the lake, going even faster than he had on the day he had saved Applegate from drowning.

The night was fair and crisp, as nights often are just before Christmas.

Clouds drifted across the sky in endless procession, partially hiding the stars.

Sleepy bears, dozing in their grotto, pricked up their ears.

She knew that she was full of sensations she had never had before—feelings of delight and ecstasy and wonder.

The song ended. Louis lowered his trumpet and bowed solemnly to Serena.

If Serena had been in any doubt before, she no longer was. She succumbed completely to this charmer, this handsome musician, this rich and talented cob.

At great depths, where the pressure is great and the watery world is strange and mysterious, divers sometimes experience what they call the “rapture of the deep.”

On his back was a rucksack containing his toothbrush, his comb, a clean shirt, a hand ax, a pocket compass, his notebook, a pencil, and some food.

“Louis would pine away in captivity. He would die,” replied Sam.

The Head Man looked staggered by these figures. “It’s still a lot of money for a bird,” he said.

“A rat,” said Sam. “A rat will fix up a home for himself, but then he’ll bring home all sorts of little objects—trinkets and stuff. Anything he can find that catches his eye.”

They flew across Florida and spent a few days in a bayou where doves moaned in the cedars and little lizards crawled in the sun.

“I shall go,” he said to his wife. “I shall redeem my honor. I shall return to Billings, the scene of my crime—a great city, teeming with life—”

“Danger!” said the old cob. “Danger! I welcome danger and adventure. Danger is my middle name. I would risk my life to redeem my honor and recapture my sense of decency. I shall pay my debt and blot out the foul mark that sullies my good name....”

“Danger!” said the old cob. “Danger! I welcome danger and adventure. Danger is my middle name. I would risk my life to redeem my honor and recapture my sense of decency. I shall pay my debt and blot out the foul mark that sullies my good name....”

“The end is near,” he said to himself. “I shall die in the performance of duty. I have only a few moments remaining to live. Man, in his folly, has given me a mortal wound...."

The storekeeper sheepishly handed the moneybag and the slate to the game warden.

A young doctor came in and examined the wound where the shotgun pellet had hit him. The doctor said the wound was superficial.

“On the basis of the testimony,” he said solemnly, “I award the money to the storekeeper, to make up for the loss of the trumpet and damage to the store. I am placing the swan in the custody of the game warden.”

The warden looked sulky.

The policeman looked glum.

The storekeeper pointed a gun at me and fired. I felt an agonizing pain in my left shoulder—which I've always considered the more beautiful of my two shoulders.

Blood gushed from my wound in torrents, and I sank gracefully to the sidewalk, where I handed over the money and thus regained my honor and my decency.

Blood gushed from my wound in torrents, and I sank gracefully to the sidewalk, where I handed over the money and thus regained my honor and my decency.

A great multitude of people gathered.

As the years went by, he and Serena returned each spring to the pond, nested, and had their young. And each year, at the end of summer, when the moult was over and the flight feathers grew back in and the cygnets were ready to try their wings, Louis took his family for a long pleasure trip across America.

After visiting Philadelphia, Louis would fly south with his wife and children so they could see the great savannas where alligators dozed in the swamp water and Turkey Buzzards soared in the sky.

“It has something to do with rabbits,” said Sam. “It says here that a rabbit is a crepuscular animal.”