After a few moments of clamorous confusion they all flew off in the direction of the muddy flats at the lower end of the lake.

The pine-tops subsided into stillness.

But an occasional hoarse croak or muttered guttural showed that a few of their occupants had been left at home.

The Babe wondered what it had all been about, but he succeeded in holding his tongue.
In a moment or two this heroic self-restraint had its reward.
"Trying to show some of the youngsters how to fly, and jeering at the timid ones and the stupid ones!" explained Uncle Andy.
"Oh!" said the Babe, with a long, appreciative inflection.
Uncle Andy paused, leaving an opening for more questions.

But the Babe refused to be drawn, so presently, with a comprehending grin, he went on: "It's rather a small affair for crows, you know, this colony of theirs here on Silverwater.